I’m a little addicted
to your hand in mine
my body leaning against yours
and the soft smile you have
while staring into my eyes

I’m a little addicted
to being close to you
the sweet smell of your perfume
and the way you nudge me
when you want attention

I’m a little addicted
to holding you in my arms
your body so close to mine
and tracing my fingers on your skin

I’m a little addicted
to you

i've run out of poetry,
and now all i'm left with
is gray.

gray surroundings,
gray people.
i'm lost in a world
that's lost in itself.

i can't find the words
to even say what i'm feeling,
because all i see is confusion
staring right back at me.

i'm in a room full of mirrors,
my own reflection
not appearing
because i've lost myself
in the depths of my thoughts.

someone,
please find me,
someone, anyone,
i'm gasping for air
that's not even there.

no one understands,
yet you're all here to listen.

there's only one problem.

i can't find the words-
i've run out of poetry.

Sometimes a miraculous thing happens.

The body ages,
And the skin crinkles like an old plastic bag.
And even though the body fades, the soul still fights on.
And the soul comes through the eyes.
And the most crinkled, faded old people will have the deepest eyes. Sometimes deeper than any others. Their soul comes through their eyes and draws everything in.
They glow with a brilliance earned over many years,
And even though the body withers, the eyes stay bright.

I often envisage love
as snowflakes-

Each of us have it different
but it’s really just the same
with its imperfectly etched beauty
only few can comprehend

Its beauty can never be
expressed in words
or even a sliver
of what it’s worth

The snowflakes are piling up
and the shivers are ethereal
we don’t even realize
that it drives us delirious

The snowflakes keep piling up
but it doesn’t end here
it’ll drown us in its avalanche
and leave us gasping for air.

The mind space time continuum
        warped, twisted, smooth
        streaming forth in its never-ended cycle
        the current carries us all.
Relatively relaxed
        speaking in terms of dusty boxes
        you’ve half-forgotten in shadowy corners.
We put them there,
        slid them gently along the floor
        each sub-parcel wrapped haphazardly
        but the surface sealed tight.
We placed the contents in accordingly
        small things in big boxes, sometimes
        but sometimes we can only cover it with a sheet.
We build rooms.
        Houses.
        Cities.
Anything to store the horrors we had
        hidden among discarded toys.
Concealed, always concealed;
        whether hidden in plain sight
        or locked in boxes and buried
        hoping that enough time under those six feet
        will be enough to make these sinister beings
        these beasts we birthed and bred
        lose the will to continue breathing
        broken, forgotten
                        dead.

If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

The sun loved
the moon so much
that he died
every night
to let her breathe.'

the beautiful forbidden lovers
never able to meet
to share warm kisses

but I remember the sneaky Moon
she sneaks out of her dark domain
I see her in bright daylight
swathed in the Sun's golden touch
opposite in the sky
they watch each other
with love so pure

although she is forbidden
in his bright domain
she is there
because she believes
that nothing is impossible

and the day comes
when they can meet
for but a few minutes
they embrace in fire
and we stare in wonder
as they meet
but then they must
drift apart
with broken hearts

she blows him kisses
whispers
'goodnight, my love'
as he sinks beneath the horizon
bursting into colors
and the Moon cries
and whispers
⠀⠀
'I love you.'❋