My heart is prepared to burst
with the thought of going
   though an entire lifetime with
   never feeling loves warmth

To be shielded from glow of
love without feelings ones
   arms wrapped around you
   to take away the pain & hurt

Never feeling the touch of
love wiping away your tears
   and locking gentle fingers
   as you walk together in sync

Being MINUS LOVE and not
tasting the soft lips of one that
   raises your body temperature
   compels me to weep in sorrow.

We were two broken souls
Intertwined; I was desperate to be saved
You were too
And I was
Hopeful
Scared
In love
You were just the same,
Yet we still pretended
That we were right for each other,
That our love could last further,
That we won’t give up on one another,
We tried but it ended. It really did.
What was left?
An unfulfilled dream
An idea of forever
A broken heart
Did you know this from the start?
But even if our love ignited and burned,
Just as fast as it vanished,
I can still say with all certainty,
You were the only good thing left in my world.
*back then

Sitting, quietly, seaside
I was with you, yes, you
Of the shiningly black hair
Glistening, seemingly with every
Ray drop of sunlight and every
Tide of wave swam ashore
And I was there
Gazing, silently, ocean
Expanding endlessly beyond vision
We were holding each other’s hands
It felt good holding your hands
Catching minute glimpses of your eyes
Watching the vast everblue
Fearful and scared of the future
But still beautiful; exuding allure
Even after all this time
Because I’ll never get tired of the ocean
No matter if it speaks every word carefully
And lies the next sentence
I’ll never hate the ocean
Even when I drown or spent years
Swimming, shallow, waters

This is a repost of a repost I once posted
Just to get somebody to read
As I'm quickly running out of ideas
In the relm of poetry

My hopes is it's far enough back in the pack
Where the first repost has faded from mind
Along with the fact originality I lack
At this moment in time

I might add an extra line of rhyme
That didn't come to mind the first, second, and third time
In case it looks too familiar
When brought out in the light

Then with this repost of a repost I once posted
No one should suspect a thing
Although they may have their suspicions
In its rhyming and its ring

Sometimes I figure if even I can't remember
Myself writing out this poem
Then I have no worries as we all read in a hurry
And no one will ever know

these clocks
on
the wall
can't see
the
light of day
at all
when
we
begin to pray

There is something so raw and glorious
about being awake before the rest of the world.
When a new day is breaking through over the horizon,
and the birds are just starting to stir.
The air is a mixture of stickiness and solitude.
The dew lines up on the blades of grass,
wanting to be the first touched by the rays of the sun.