Tremble, my darling, I tremble for you
My bones, white and brittle, they tremble too
This life is too short for you to be true
So tremble, you say, and tremble I do.

Soft winged doves fly quick on the wind
But Darling I'm sure- they tremble too.
The mountains seem strong, stronger than sin
But Darling I know- that tremble they do.

In short, dearest Darling, when you have long gone
The world out in space will tremble for you

No, I don't want a fairy tale.
No, I don't want a Prince Charming,
nor a Princess to confess my love for.
No, I don't want a beautiful wedding
in the woods or near a stream.
No, I don't want my career to make me rich.
No, I don't want my lover to kiss me until I faint.
No, I don't want my children to run and play,
making the best experience out of life.
No, I don't want my daughter to grow and meet her Prince.
No, I don't want my son to find his Princess,
get on his knees and give her a silver ring with the purest of gems.
No, I don't want to die happy, with my grandchildren surrounding my bed.

Let me tell you something.
Let me teach you a lesson.
Let me talk to you,
through this poem,
in a Sarcastic tone.

Duh...

We say 'I love you'
so often,
so casually.
We say it in text messages,
we say it laughingly
or between the lines
of a conversation.
Sometimes because
we have to,
sometimes because
we want to,
sometimes even
when we don't.
But I love you.
I love you often,
but not
casually.
I love you always.
Honestly,
everlastingly
love you.
With every heartbeat,
even in the spaces
between.
love
you
If my words cannot convince you,
you will feel it in my touch.
*"Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love"

Three days were left
and I'll be gone forever.
Forever means,
you won't see me anymore.
And if you're lucky enough
to see me in the news
or hear my name.
Then probably,
that would be the time
that I was dead.

When she entered his room she found him seated on the edge of his bed with the curtains drawn. The room was dark, gloomy and smelled of tired air and night sweats. "A no sunlight zone in here today or can I open a window?" she asked gently.

"Do as you please" came from a throat constantly hoarse from years of misusing alcohol, cigarettes and another night of yelling in his sleep.

She moved quickly across the room, pulled back the curtains and opened the window before he had a chance to change his mind. "Why do you say that?" she asked taking a moment to inhale the fresh June air. Lungs full, she turned and seated herself beside him. "It's such a beautiful day. Won't you come and sit by the window, if only for a few minutes?"

"Why? What difference do you think it'll make?"  he raised the pointer finger of his left hand to his temple and tapped. "There are times when the darkness is in here, there isn't any light, not behind curtains, not at the end of some ******* tunnel ..."  his voice trailed off  "... not anywhere."

A softly knitted "Oh, I see," slipped from her lips and trailed off upon a welcomed breeze that had entered through the open window. It waltzed around the room gathering as it swirled, carrying off their words, adding them to bits of red dust and scents of ocean, barbeque, and freshly mowed grass.  She loved the intrusion, the smells of the warm world just beyond these walls reminded her of the importance and value of small joys.

"I think I   should make you   a  paper moon," she spoke thoughtfully as though her idea were being pieced together as her words formed.  "Yes,   a paper moon,    one with a little red paper heart inside ... small enough to fit in your wallet   and on days when," he watched her struggle for the right words "... it's dark,   you'll have a backup  supply of light and love   right in your own back pocket."

"My God she's odd." he thought and said so. But it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.  She just laughed and smiled then leaned in and added in a conspiratorial whisper "But I'm the very best sort of odd ..."

"Oh?" he asked with his first, almost smile of the day. "There are various sorts of odd?"

"Absolutely!"

"But you're the very best sort?"

"Absolutely!"

"And exactly what sort are you?"

"The harmless and crafty sort. Did I tell you?" She looked over her shoulders and then leaned in and whispered, "I can make the most wonderful paper moons?"

He turned his head away and facing the wall, he asked "Why are you so kind to me?"

"I have kindness in me to give and I believe you need it. So makes sense to give it, doesn't it?"

"There's lots of folks in this place needing kindness. Don't let me keep you."

She stood up, crossed to the door, turned and smiled, "Okay. Shall I come to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah ... Why not?"

As she walked out into the hallway he called after her "Hey! Odd Duck, if you're feeling crafty tonight ... I'll take one of those paper moons of yours."

No, you're not the one who completes my sentences nor the one who reads my mind.
You're never there when I need you the most and you never listen to the words I say.
You're loud and obnoxious, but your noises are much like music to my ears.
You're not the one I would die for, but you're the one I want spend the rest of my life with.
You're not the one who would fight for me, but you're the one I would fight for with every bit of my restless soul.
You're not the one who completes me, but you're the one who makes me feel whole.
You're the one I would tell my darkest secrets and worst stories to.
You're the one I would want to have next to me in this unknown journey of life.
You're not the one, but you're everything I've ever wanted.
You're the one I want.
You're the one I need.
You were always the one, but you never noticed, you never knew.