31 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I know we’ve both been told not to make homes out of people.
Because once they are gone, we will become lost in the world and slowly begin to feel incomplete.
But you can run into my heart, build a place called home and make it yours.
So when people ask me about your whereabouts, I will just tell them that you are where you finally belong.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside and that’s why most people are drawn to your aura.
I still want to hold you like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
Home is where the heart is, it’s where the art is and I never want you to leave.
It won’t matter which book I’ll be reading; your love will always be the scripture that my heart believes in.
The first time there was peace inside my heart was the very first time you began loving me.
I know that I could live off your heart if mine ever stopped beating.
We’ve both been told not to make homes out of people because once they are gone, we will become lost in the world.
But you will never lose me to the wind no matter how hard it blows.
So let me love you wholeheartedly, not in words but with my actions.
I had given up on love and happiness before you walked into my life.
From a distant stranger to an unforgettable muse all the way up to sharing a beautiful view beside you.
Run into my heart, turn those four walls into a home and make it yours.
So when people ask me about your whereabouts, I will just tell them that you are where you finally belong.

30 | 31 Poems for August 2016

You’re introverted in ways that others find offensive.
But you’re different, you’ve acquired my entire attention.
Beautiful cocoa butter skin, your complexion is truly a blessing.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings, I just hope that you’ll be in it.
I don’t know if tomorrow will come but I pray that you’ll be in it.
Sometimes these words fail me, but fortunately you never do.
I often find metaphors in the spaces between your fingers.
I regularly pray to God and unpretentiously thank Him for your existence.
Even though I barely say much, I know He’s always listening.
I often find metaphors encrypted in the midst of your silence.
You can always talk to me; I am always willing to listen to you.
You’re introverted in ways that others find offensive.
You’re different, something that not everyone knows how to love.

29 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The girl with a soul like a library keeps getting thicker than the plot does.
So I guess that it’s no mystery why I am obsessed with reading.
She knows that I always have a book in my hand no matter the season.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Rudy Francisco’s pen always dreams about.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s winter or summer, when she is the breeze I can never forget to breathe.
She gently holds me in her hands like her favourite author’s best-selling novel.
She told me to write poetry until my heart runs out of ink and my soul runs out of paper.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with me not for my words but because I love reading.
She’s composed of all the love poems my pen never had the courage to write.
Because sometimes the pulchritude of her presence is too heavy for blank pages and simple words.
The day I realised that words could touch her, I wanted to become a poem.
The type of poem that Reyna Biddy’s pen always dreams about.
The girl with a soul like a library fell in love with the boy who loves reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.

28 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The battle with cancer is won but unfortunately the war is not over.
White sheets and peaceful dreams, this hospital is starting to feel like home but you feel all alone.
You’ve been here for two whole weeks now and the doctor won’t tell us what’s really going on.
Your organs are slowly giving up on you, you feel like something is bound to go wrong.
White sheets and peaceful dreams, sometimes reality is not as clear as it always seems.
I pray to God that He cures you and I pray to God that He hears you, if only cancer was just a star sign.
I hope your family gets here in time, I heard the nurses say that your operation starts at eight.
I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep, I guess you’ll be in the ICU before I see you.
The battle with cancer is won but unfortunately the war is not over.
This whole thing hurts but I try my best not to let my emotions show.
It’s sad to see you drifting away like autumn leaves on a windy street.
I don’t know if heaven will patiently wait for you but I pray that you recuperate.
As soon as your family got here I inevitably cried with the rest of them.
Your days are numbered like a numerical keypad and that’s why you’ve been asking for heaven’s telephone number.
But I pray that you pull through with immense alacrity because the war is not over.
This whole thing hurts but I try my best not to let my emotions show.
White sheets and peaceful dreams, sometimes reality is not as bad as it always seems.

27 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Today I am finally breaking free and slowly stripping away all the things that seem to burden me.
In due time I’ll be fine and I’ll eventually find what makes me laugh and smile.
I’m not where I want to be but give me time, I misplaced my favourite watch.
I need more 808s and less heartbreaks – music that will take the pain away.
I need something that’ll make me forget about my problems just for today.
Love isn’t always magic sometimes it loses its energy and remains static.
But I want to feel it anyway, whether it quickly overwhelms me or slowly begins to fade away.
I am finally breaking free and slowly stripping away all the things that seem to burden me.
I left my heart far away from the margin on a page that was carelessly ripped from my book of thoughts.
My hands are freezing and my heart is bleeding, this whole thing hurts but I try my best not to let my frustrations show.
Before my whole world began to fall apart I knew that I was in too deep like Omar Epps.
All I was trying to do was love you better but I never thought that you’d ever pack your bags and leave.
I am slowly falling apart and all I can think about is gathering the pieces of my broken heart together.
Today I am breaking free and stripping away all the things that burden me.

26 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Wondering how life will pan out from this moment on as ****** by Usher keeps echoing in the background.
Maybe it was wrong of me to have you stay by my side while your mind was already drifting a million miles away from me.
My love and faith will be dissected; you’ll even go as far as quoting me out of context based on the messages that I’ve sent.
But that’s something that I should expect because I’m also at fault like tectonic plates.
Charles once told me that things would change but not always for the better.
He said as long as I prove myself to be King then I’ll eventually find someone as phenomenal as Coretta.
But Charles I’m slowly losing hope, that Skype call we had on August 14th gave me some perspective and maybe I’m doing something wrong.
Because all day I’ve been sitting here all alone while contemplating if I am going nowhere fast.
Wondering how life will pan out from this moment on as Let It Go by James Bay keeps playing on the radio.
Maybe it was wrong of me to have you stay by my side while your mind was already drifting a million miles away from me.

25 | 31 Poems for August 2016

A few months ago you didn't know that I could write or recite like that.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
If my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished then just know that I wrote from the heart.
I know that love is a beautiful thing but sometimes I feel like its main intention is to tear me apart.
So don’t be too surprised when I tell you that I’m slowly falling to pieces.
The ocean in my muse’s eyes reminds me of the colour of the sky and how I want to dive into the depths of who she is.
The world has made her feel like an abandoned church but in my eyes she’ll always be a cathedral.
She will always be a cathedral and you can say hallelujah or amen to that.
We are from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms.
Went from breaking up, breaking down, breaking through to finally breaking new ground.
So even though I’m hurting now I know I’ll eventually be safe and sound when a new season comes around.
I’m still fascinated by spring, jacaranda petals and the countless anthologies that Mother Nature continues to write.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skins is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
My notebook is full of broken masterpieces that fail to come together like contour lines.
Even if my art goes unappreciated, unnoticed, unloved and unpublished I will always write from the heart.

24 | 31 Poems for August 2016

This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you listen to my voice you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.
I fully acknowledge the fact that I am not perfect but I’d love to believe that I’m worth it.
The hardest part of saying goodbye is seeing me cry and knowing that I’ll no longer get the chance to see you smile.
I wrote this on a Tuesday morning while listening to Siegfried by Frank Ocean while reading the pages of a Dan Brown novel.
I’d build Rome for you in a day and make you forget about all the negative things that critics always say.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining and the wind is blowing.
My heart breaks as I try to piece this piece together and hopefully find peace by the end of this masterpiece.
I’m tired like the Michelin Man but I still have great drive like a brand new Bentley or Benz.
Some days I’m more Bukowski than Dickens, flipping through the pages of my life as the plot thickens.
They say perception is flawed and distorted, perception is key and I need to find a locksmith.
Contemplating about unexpected goodbyes while living off a temporary high.
A part of me had already anticipated the heartbreak so this time around the effects were less detrimental.
My eyes and mind are blinded by the love that my heart obstinately believes in.
I’m thankful for your love, you gave me something to believe in but the time has come for me to be leaving.
This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you analyse my poetry you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.

23 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Say something, and no, I am not giving up on you.
I just want you to listen to Diddy Bop or maybe that Freedom Interlude.
I just want to know if you’re listening to the words that I’m saying.
All that I’m trying to do is live right and give you all the best parts of me.
No matter how hard I try, I can never write a poem as beautiful as you.
I do not know if that says much about me or the words that I constantly use.
Wrote these poems from the heart so every single word you read or hear is guaranteed to be a pulse.
I’ve been digging the soles of my shoes into the ground just to keep myself steady and balanced.
I hope that our love has a happy ending or keeps overflowing until infinity finds a need to end.
Being loved by you and loving you is the only thing that makes sense right now.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
I still smell the sweet scent of your presence on the white cotton sheets of my memory.
You are the first love poem that I ever wanted to write back when I didn’t have the courage to.
Say something and I promise that I will follow you anywhere God leads me to.
I’m Lonnie Lynn with the poetry and maybe that explains why we have a lot in common.

22 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I’ve been looking all over for you, so tell me where have you been?
You can’t seem to remember how you got to loving me the way you do.
I wrote this at around 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning while thinking about you.
You will always be my favourite love poem, written on the sands of time.
Now that I’ve finally found you, I never want to write our breakup poem.
I didn’t know how good love felt until the day you began to love me the way you have.
Sometimes my communication skills are as bad as my handwriting is.
But my kisses are as good as my intentions, so you can go ahead and rub your smile onto my lips.
You have become the poems and stories woven in the veins of my loving heart.
You are the reason why I remained whole while my world was falling apart.
I’ve been looking all over for you and I’m glad that I’ve finally found you.
My hands were writing about love long before I knew what poetry was.
But I didn’t know what love was until the day you began to love me.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
Even though the world may read the pages of my heart, my poetry will always belong to you.
Now that I’ve finally found you, promise me that you’ll never let me go.

21 | 31 Poems for August 2016

The cuts on her wrists help to express the feelings she cannot put into words.
Despite the pain she feels,  she feels the urge to constantly hurt herself again.
I want to be her sunshine through the rain and be her love through the pain.
She once said "Self-hurt became the only way to cope, I'm hanging by a thread and I hope no one cuts the rope."
Maybe no one will ever truly understand the type of love and happiness that she has begun to humbly demand.
The teenage girl who cuts herself knows that morphine cannot ease her pain.
She bleeds every night and believes that her scars will make her feel all right.
She has been tirelessly walking around with the burden of a broken heart.
She uses countless razor blades just to refrain herself from falling apart.
Mom doesn't know because during the day her scars don't clearly show.
Carefully concealed to avoid the eyes of prying friends, she'd rather converse with a stranger.
Inflicting pain on herself became the only way to cope, she's hanging by a thread and hopes that no one cuts the rope.
The teenage girl who cuts herself is trying to exorcise the demons she has regrettably danced with.
She has wounds a Band-Aid cannot cover and experiences pain that morphine cannot dissipate.
The teenage girl who cuts herself is patiently waiting for love to dominate.
The cuts on her wrists help to express the feelings she cannot put into words.
She believes that her marks and scars will eventually make everything all right.
The day she embraced God's love, her demons questioned the value of their existence.

19 | 31 Poems for August 2016

These ideas of nightmares I usually have when the night stares.
I know that I unintentionally pushed you away several times that day.
But listen to me, regardless of what happened I still need you to stay.
I’m trying to make more memories but my Kodak has run out of film.
Maybe I should buy a Canon and digitally capture these moments for forever.
“You’ve got hyperhidrosis but don’t sweat the small stuff” is something I imagine you to say.
The future is uncertain and things inevitably change but I’d love for you to stay.
I could try to act all tough and conceal my fears but I’m as scared as you are.
Back when this connection was ignited, we never thought that we would end up this far.

18 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of red wine, Sade, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
Time is wasted so I patiently wait for the clock to get sober eventually.
The sincerity of my words is embedded in the movement of my verbs.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I want to hold you in my arms until you forget what loneliness feels like.
I read your body like the pages and chapters of a novel that I never want to stop reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
If you incorporate piano keys into my heartbeat, then I promise that you will fall in love with the melody.
I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of chardonnay, Maxwell, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
The world is nothing without you, the world is blurry without my muse.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I don’t have much but I have you and with God on my side how can I lose?