that when you were
39
and i was
37
and we were
still single
we would marry each other
in that church over there

when we got together
we joked that we would be getting married
a lot earlier
than
expected

so why is it now
that the chimes of
"happily ever after"
seem so
far
away

you tore me away from reality
with simple sentences
and idiotic jokes

you made me forget
everything

I didn't know what to think

or what to do with myself.

I guess I just ended up becoming yours.

now you've broken
everything

you've broken everything and you expect me to pick up the pieces

I will
I can guarantee that

but I can't guarantee that I will find all of the pieces

some will be lost,

maybe even broken smaller.  

some will have been stolen,

by nightly visits or maybe
close relatives

and I know we might be able to get them back but

I don't want to scrape my hands picking up the glass that you broke

I don't want to work for something and go against people while you're sitting in your high chair waiting for some gratification

I don't want my blood all over your floor
when I know you're not even going to help

I don't want to feel
guilty
or vulnerable
when we talk

but I guess that's how it goes

because humans have needs that need to be fulfilled

no matter how hard it is for someone else to fulfil it for them.

Body shaking
Heart racing
Mind scattered
Feeling dizzy
Need help
Can't talk
Go away
Can't walk
Pass out
Why not cry a little too

Hello my name is anxiety

The best love of all?
Is when you both
Found it at your worst.
Because,
Through all the flaws we see
*The beautiful truth.

Funny,
It is when we find love
That we start to search for it.

Funny,
Some say that love is blind
Yet, it always seems to find us.

Funny,
You’ve always been with me,
And it is only now that I’ve found you.

Seriously,
I have now found
True love.

© 2010 J.S.P.

With a quill over paper
For muse, we are excavators
We pour out our hearts
So joy, love, peace to impart
To hold a torch over emotional darkness
To fill each others hollowness
Its for the love we write

When we write
We are called poets
A name fitting and right
But your theft just says you are mentally poor
Reducing you further to a mere thief
And nothing close to a P
Not to talk of a poet.

The moon is not a thing you can steal
Trust me its pure folly
That's a dumb idea to conceive
Posting others' poems
Posting like a poet?
Like seriously
How does that sound to 'your' hearing?
DUMB
Even so, to even dare, you must be too dumb to realize its dumb

To acknowledge is not so hard
Its just adding one more line on your pad
I want to deceive myself that you are not too dumb to know that
If you didn't know, now you do.

PS: You could post my poem
That does not make you a poet
It just makes you a thief
Suffice it to say, the worst kind
Without robbing me of the fact that I'm a POET