What an amazing thing it is
the center of the highways and byways of humanness

A rhythmic beating that stirs the soul
the ultimate example of the word dichotomy

It can survive attacks with incredible resilience
yet be shattered by mere words

Lobbed in your direction to inflict pain and suffering
these powerful weapons wielded like a sword

Leaving it in shreds like shards of glass
strewn carelessly about each crystal abandoned unto itself

The results can be deep incisions leading to permanent scars
picking up the pieces far easier said than done

Some say it is akin to a stab wound with a twisted blade
that literally and figuratively can invoke fatal damage

Often; time, space and love encourage healing
While a touch, hug or kiss can re-ignite its flame

Occasionally it requires the talents of a skilled surgeon
To bring it back to life using ordinary means sans heroics

Hope, trust and faith the elixir aligned with patience
A potent cure commingled with a mix of prescriptions

The combination of memories and senses
Delivering messages for it to act upon

Call it heart break or heart ache or any other name
The result can end up being the same.

In the end it is not a matter of whether science
can complete a successful transplant
But whether a broken heart can be mended at all

Andreas Simic©

It is like there are two parts, the watched and the watcher
The watcher seeing a struggle to find love
An essential ingredient to happiness and self fulfillment

You have constructed a wall impenetrable by most everyone
Built for protection to keep others out, but why
Like a bird with an injured wing I observe you flapping about

Flailing at some unknown enemy or force in defiance or defense
A look of utter scorn scowling across such a delicate tender face
One that could be touched gently like a light breeze by a suitor

Oh they have tried, your outer beauty a draw like honey
I too know the inner beauty you harbor safely in the bay of hope
Away from the rough seas of life where hurt and pain lurk

Alas frustration mounts as the dueling enigmas duke it out
Like a ring with two combatants competing to best the other
A hard fought battle that may see neither a winner, a draw no less

Leaving pugilists exhausted and feeling no less loved or cared about
An outsider peeping into a window to the soul of a future lover
That can be seen but not touched like in a dream

Little light
Streaming through my window
Into my dark room
How I truly treasure you

Little light
Guide me in this eternal night
I can no longer fight
I completely surrender this plight

I live in unease
So please,
God, I call out to You
Set me free from this darkness that consumes me

My hope swirls black
Clouds, back and forth
And back, they grasp
My throat, my hope
Morphed into attack
On my soul, panic
Raids the homes of my
Whole range of emotions
Commotion stirs inside:
My heart, throbs like a
Wound; My lungs reach
For air, but lose; leave
Me to suffocate, please
My hope is gone, please
End my constant pain
The tiring waning of
Survival on its tip-toes
Tripping me, I fall
So often
Without getting up.

I didn't start living until 15 days ago.
Hopped on a plane across the world, fueled by hope and thrill, visiting countless countries, famous cities, small towns, pub prowls, tattooed and brand new perspective.
It's quite different than it used to be.
Plagued by disease, wrecked memories, hard to wash stains off child brain, proaction, retraction, all too young to act on desires.
But now I feel I have purpose.
Because when I stress it's not about failing expectations, reality weighs in, search for places to stay in, transportation, learn new languages, survival depends on my eustress now.
And no one can bring me down.

The phone beeps after our call, that is laced with sadness, that we can never be together at all.
My feelings are shattered between his fingers,
he's playing a game between them.

So sweet, yet so bitter, with every partner comes a tear, that turns to licker in an instant quicker.

And my face is drowned with tears so driven down my face,
I swallow and taste the bitter-sweet taste.

In the end, he doesan't matter as I dream about a future with the greatest husband

Cold nights have no sunlight,
as its Christmas eve,
but each second it takes that you stop outsider  my door:

                                      I breath.
Because just like mistletoe, you made me love the,
without an action you made me; me.

I love the way you look tonight,
black hair so dark,
it silhouettes my Christmas lights.

And your rare green eyes, has a Christmas tree sparkle, dancing in the twilight of this Christmas eve night.
Your face ,
pickled plum pink,
with a scarf that steals your neck,
to a coat so big and perfect,
your way of running here, is so sweet and precious,
I think I'll kiss you under the mistletoe.