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 Apr 2018 those bygone years
Ari
If crimson beads form and drip from the outstreched fingertips of my soul,
I'll try to remember.

The rose only ****** in self defense,
and pain stabs the heart in hope to be felt forever.
read a thousand love stories,
pause, rest awhile,
read ten thousand more,
and then deny equality.

If you ask for no more than you can give,
you ask for not enough

love is imbalance not an equation,
with a single solution

love has both constants and variable factors

so you write of tribulations and tributes
so you write of lamentations and liftings

you think you are on the same page
perhaps
but do we not all read at different paces?

one of you is solid, one is dotted and dashed
one of you is straight, one is bent, forever curving

when you think you are
in balance
in the same place
in syncopation

perhaps you are for a moment
a calculus of one point on a trajectory

and you say I can only ask for what I give
and am given
and no more,
you have miscalculated

this flux
flummoxed
when the old terrain is flayed flat
but thru the windshield you see the
plateau ends, the geography unknown,

when you see unknown
when you seek the unknown
when you give from places you did not know
you had to give from
when you kiss a hand
for  twenty minutes more than than the one minute you intended
when you give more than is asked
when you ask for more than you can you think you can give
the imbalance is the only concert
the imbalance is the the only constant

how do I know this?
what are my credentials?
you are not a teenage girl,
what matters of what you know of these matters?

I am who I am
a diversity of man and manner
I am past prime and in decline
but this I know
for having failed ten thousand poem times
you must ask for more than one can give

but that's not fair!

silly one, still wretched confused,
even after one hundred
thousand poem times

you must ask of
yourself
more than you can give
and ask no less
demand no less

a body in emotion is not a body in rest
when the imbalance is too great or insufficient
then you write a poem
look in the mirror that cannot lie
and move
on
or
move
off

and begin to ask
yourself
to whom may I give myself
more than is asked
then you have finally asked
the correct solution to the
unsolvable equation
 Apr 2018 those bygone years
LS
i'm looking at you
after all of the damage has already been done
it's been months now
but i still can't manage to not look for you
in crowded rooms
i tell myself
you aren't mine
and i'm not yours
i am mine
and you are yours

i look at you and dare to utter
"i'm not yours anymore."
so you stifle a laugh and say
"you're always gonna be mine. at least a little bit."
i realized then
that was what i had been afraid of
the whole time
because i knew
you were right
 Apr 2018 those bygone years
LS
i got glasses in 6th grade
because i couldn't see the board
my mom took me to the eye doctor
he shook my hand and said
"your vision should get better
it's just you growing up"

i wore my glasses every day
and things stopped being such a blur
until 7th grade
when my vision got worse
i went back to the eye doctor
he shook my hand with his cold one
"your vision got a little worse, that's okay, nothing to worry about"
so i got different lenses
and a better prescription too
the board became clearer
and things were even less of a blur

i went back freshman year
because i wanted contacts
i was sure my vision changed again
maybe it got worse
the doctor shook my hand again
giving me goosebumps
"your vision hasn't changed"
i thought
how is that possible?
something has to have changed
it feels so different
but nothing did

during freshman year
is when i loved you
i loved you so much
that i ignored all the harsh words
and the way you'd make me feel small
i loved you so much
that i never saw the way you treated me
even when everyone else did

that's when i realized
even with contacts or glasses
some people still can't
see clearly
 Apr 2018 those bygone years
Ciel
Darling,
you wear your sadness so well.
I wish it would rain every day so I could constantly witness
the way your cheeks glow with the tears falling from your eyes
or the thunder of your voice as you sob through the night.
I love the way your brain tosses
and turns
and rummages
inside your skull
picking at old threads and littered notes.

I just hate cleaning up after a rampaging storm.
It's snowing in April
To you, the ground beneath my feet
Every step I take,
you support me.

You stand with me,
in my times of trouble

I am warmed by your embrace,
as I become entranced in your outfit of lace.

Nothing could be more finely crafted,
than my connection with you.

The ages may wear on you,
yet you remain the only one
my sole longs for.

For you truly are...
My favorite pair of shoes.
It was effortlessly beautiful that night,
shining the brightest amongst all.
I've never seen it glowing radiantly,
such exquisite sight is rarely seen.
I ponder upon the beauty,
unlike any other day
where it was just a crescent
and sometimes faded.


It reminded me of someone,
someone whom I've lost
while i was busy searching for the star.
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