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Before it became a crush,
we were family friends.
You slipped in and out of my parent's parties.
I saw you only in passing.
We were never introduced...

...formally, that is.
The first time I saw you out of my house
was that night.
The night we first spoke.
You comforted me and
cradled me in your arms.
I was with all my best friends,
but you and I seemed to fit so perfectly.
Some say we took those first steps too quickly.
It wasn't love right away, but I was
intrigued by you and your
sense of warmth.

After nights similar to the first,
I began to think of you a lot.
If a weekend would pass without you in it,
in me,
it was incomplete.
I yearned for your touch
and the way you made my skin prickle.
My lips tingle in the thought of you now.

At the beginning, it was simply fun with you.
Innocent fun with no repercussions.
That is when I learned to love you.
I loved how you didn't have a plan or sense of direction.
You were spontaneous.
I was insecure and fragile, looking for someone,
just like you.
At first, you brought out the best in me,
showed me that when we were together,
I meant something,
and I will always thank you for that.

There were times when I questioned your worth.
Some nights you would engulf me,
take everything of me,
chew me up
and spit me back out.
You never threatened me, or hurt me.
I just loved you so much that I would do anything you said.
Maybe I was angry with you in the morning,
but I always forgave you the next time we were together.
Run up to you and hug you, and you would kiss me twice on each cheek.
Like you always had.
As if nothing had happened.
Somehow promising that tonight would be better.

From that first night to now,
our love affair has been consistent.
I always want you
and your smooth touch.
And even after every time you put me down.
You're always the one to pull me back up.
I've shared so many memories with you,
dark and messy nights,
poetic and spiritual ones too.
Every time I hear your name or
know that you are near,
my eyes widen.
I bite my lip and smile.
I get shaky and anticipate your arrival.

Some people love you superficially.
They are the ones who don't easily forgive.
But you know that I will always love you.
Some will try to tear us apart,
saying that you don't love me back.
That you can't.
They've tried and lost.
Even if I don't directly receive love in return,
the way you make me feel, and act, and cry,
lets me know that you do love me.
You are the only one who can hurt me
as much as you have,
and know that I will always run back into your arms.
There is a storm brewing on the horizon.
The shadow covets my harbor,
unimpressed with all the shelter I have sought to avoid it's black cloud claws.
This sickening frame of perspective
soaks up the sorrowful rain;
convinced there is nothing outside of painful growth.

The thunder fills up any space for other thought
and I am overcome with the angry vibrations of particular nature.
Other roots sing out to the rain with acceptance and understanding.
I look to their placement and try to pray alongside the healthy,
but just as contentment ascends past my roots
lightening thrusts it's late night epitomes deep into the soil.

Oh, song of few fragile petals,
although you have been over pruned by unconscious hands,
you are not of that love.
Containing so much more than black eyes and regretted births;
remember the newness of every day.

Keep repeating those memorized murmurs of broken poets,
but keep the beauty of communication
let the mesmerizing misery fall back into the sky.
I need someone to sweep me off my feet,
Who'll lift me up and make me fly.
I need someone nice and sweet,
Who would never dare make me cry.
I need a soul compatible with mine,
So that the bond never diminishes.
I need a soul, a soul divine,
So that our love never thinks to finish.
I need strength to carry on,
in times of hardship and despair.
I need your hand to hold at night,
to show that someone cares.
I ask of you to be my light,
to guide me through and be my sight,
and if I ask of too much,
erase everything above with just one touch.
Then maybe I can sense your love,
an emotion so electric I can't get rid of.
You can't see beyond
What you expect to see before your eyes
You see the crown of the King
But not the man beneath it
You see the tears of a son
But not the underlying causation
And you think yourself perceptive
But you refuse to move beyond the obvious
And in our world, the obvious usually is not the truth
Complicated people concoct complicated cover stories
To deflect questions and attention, for ours is a cold, impersonal world
Where a fake smile is always more loved than a real frown
And an aura of nonchalance trumps any level of seriousness
Its a cold world, yes, and cruel
So put on your mask my friend
But be careful to remember
That all of us, every single one
Hide behind our own masks, for our own reasons
And you can trust in nothing but yourself and God
Rely on nothing but yourself and God
Because in the end, who else is there?
A coin has two sides:
one, copper bright,
reflecting honey-lit tones,
the other, dark,
hiding under shadow.

A woman, too:
honey-flecked side,
shadows drape her back.

I walk near her, keen to her scent.
Darkness and honey,
mingling bouquet of a woman.
Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
      I am the captain of my soul.
The old man
cutting barley--
bent like a sickle.
the air hangs heavy
of dignity in spaces meant
to house a golden king.

despondent, alone,
i am the silent sunken stone
of understanding pebbles
bathed in shallowater sighs
of quiet far-off longing.

all one; air
rushes in and fills my wings-
i fly and breath the sky.

a sun of your heart
warms me through the cracks
of injured earth
centuries apart from day,

i rise and smell
the song of your smile.
A poet pouring emotions onto paper
Many times obscure, hard to discern
Most would skim over, not feel the burn
Letting the words slip out of mind like vapor

For another poet though, this is not the case
Every despairing, loving, passionate word is heard
Nothing said misunderstood, seen as absurd
Never judging, for every poet also has been in this place

What on Earth would be a better match made
Than a poet and another poet minds linked as one
No need for spoken words, no need to take action
Whisper it to one another on paper, a private serenade

Dancing a dance no other could understand
Two perfect souls forever intertwined
Knowing completely one another's mind
A poet who loves a poet, their passion withstands
Take it as you will. A fleeting thought. How hard is it to have your poetry read and not understood? Be it lover, friend or foe.
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