I do not mean you as a metaphorical you, however "you" as in an undoubtable "you".
"You" may not see the panes it break. When "you" say my name my heart does wince with sweet, sweet soliloquy. When you hark my name, I turn away from the audience of strangers, and direct my speech unwavering toward "you". Now "you", with unwavering focus, hear my words back, ringing in "your" ear. "You" are the one. "You" my new-soul does love to hear speak. In silence "you" are a beautiful picture: with "your" hair long and brown, "your" eyes glowing green, "your" lips like pillows for my lips to dream. And when my dreams do meet their reality, "you" will fill my soul with sweet, sweet music.
Syllables leep and frolic off "your" tongue as children do play, in adolescent beauty and wonderment, in the fields of sping-time. They seem to adhere to "your" mind in both articulation and in reckless abandonment; they flow from "your" mouth like sweet, sweet sound in waves unbroken by thought (though I know "you" think before "you" speak).
Other me's may not hear the sounds that I do when "you" laugh, and giggle, and emote your beliefs. They may not believe me when I say I hear, no feel, "you", but if they would open their hearts, no minds, to true beauty I believe that they would, too, feel. Now I mean feel as in the most unbridled sense the senses can bare.
"Your" voice pangs on the strings of my heart's neck, the curvature of my being. It, "your" voice, still plays fluently in the drums of my ears; like a beautiful symphony "your" ways of speech. "Your" patterns they flow like notes on a staph. I will never know another human who can, through speech, evoke such emotion from I as "you".
I would give everything I owned to hear "your" voice play for hours, days, months, years; until "your" voice grew outdated and changed with the seasons. However, "your" voice will never grow outdated or change to me. It, "your" voice, will remain as beautiful as it was in its prime in my ears. Just to hear "your" chords play my name once more I would give it all. My heart longs to feel "you" again.

I wonder if there truly is a land beneath the sea
where a people had once thrived
that over time
was swallowed whole or partially.
Would we recognize this land
if we saw with our two eyes?
Or would we write it off as simply that which it now lyes?
Eroded by the waves of force,
this land which we now see
was once a land abundant and beautiful,
now lying beneath the weeds.
Or would we see this land for its true worth?
A place where creatures now give birth
to creatures ever changing
ever growing just like we.
We're not so much different, your land and mine.
Yours is simply beneath water, and mine beneath the sky.
If all evaporation had occurred simultaneously,
the mountains would have grown so high that gravity
would look a little different from your world now looking down.
How would you define mine? How would you wear your crown?
Would you pollute me and disuse me,
or would you understand my ways?
Instead of simply writing me off as such,
a land that's lost in waves.

I thought this new place would be strange, stopping in for the night - sleeping in a bed countless individuals have lain, had ***, cried (even maybe about the ***) - then packing and leaving in the sunrise of a new day.
So I walked to a bar next door to eat and drink some whiskey
       Whiskey isn't good on rough thoughts by the way...
When what does my eye see? A stranger, sitting directly across the bar, feeling the exact same as me. I would never be able to explain how I knew, it was simply a feeling I guess.
So I approached with caution, my version of suave, and said "hey miss can I buy you another?"
She replied with a "no" she was already with someone and I said I didn't mind I wasn't looking for a *****-call or anything of the sort, just some people to laugh with, I'm simply passing through town and simply passing the time.
She said "okay, come on, sit down".
We got to talking, and lo-and-behold, laughing. Minutes turned into an hour and no one else had approached her, I had completely forgotten she was waiting for another. And I believe so did she.
I finished my food and paid for her drink, a cosmopolitan, and I polished off a few more whiskeys, straight up no rocks.
Good whiskey should never be watered down, and I always shoot scotch.
As the night grew and grew she became flirtatious and asked if she could come back to my room for a night cap or a few. To which I replied, "wait, weren't you waiting for someone, like, **** it's been three hours ago, what happened who was it?"
She said it was her brother then pointed to a man across the bar with his friends who waved and I waved in reply.
She said to me, "come on he doesn't mind".
I thought it was strange, even for me, so I said, "I'm sorry miss I told you I wasn't looking for a *****-call, just someone to laugh with."
She understood then downed her cosmo, gesturing to buy her another; and I did. And another. And another for me.
Finally, against my own will, I had to leave (I really was tired after driving all day and knew I had to wake early and do it all over again).
We bid each other a-do and I left, no names just a memory we could both enjoy.
I walked back to my room and crashed into bed, then wanted a cigarette so I packed a fresh pack and went out back to burn a few down.
When what do I see? The same beautiful stranger, I believed searching for me, burning a few down herself. I said "hey?" in surprise, to which she responded with an elegant hi.
I asked if she had come to see me, she replied, "no, I'm just in a New city for the Night, staying at this hotel, visiting my brother while on my way back to college, I'm 202."
I was 203.
I thought it was simply too good to be true so I let her know.
Then she came to my room and we watched some TV, now as she in her room, and I next door, my mind can't help but wonder...
Should I go knock? On her door? Or on the wall in between?
Should I let her know that it's fate? Does she too, know?
I wonder...
What's her name? What's her sign? Where's she from? Where does she go to school?
I wonder all these things, but I'm satisfied because we lived in the present and proved we were, both, still alive - in a new city, just for the night.
So instead of asking her these things, or tapping on her door, I'm writing it down so I know I won't forget her. And if I ever need to remember a time I looked for something other than what was easily available, and over came all temptation, and shared a beautiful experience with another person who I know feels the same; I can come back here and remember all over again.

Hello my love, we meet again
beneath the trees we once had been.
A thought, a promise, now left to rot;
Your love, a thought, i've always sought.
Two souls apart we'll always wonder
until the day we find one another.
By the lakeside, an artificial sea,
my only lover i'll always know we.
A high price to pay, that of forgiveness.
You leave me here, my only witness.
To the pain I felt, no one will know
because the smile I fake is the thing that shows.
In a plain, with wheat so grown,
the wind it waves has always shown.
The path to you is here and there
growing farther still my heart lay bare.
A one to know, to hold, to love,
the northern star will guide me near.
To land, a-**, i'll always yell,
you are always the shore for my ship to sail.
If I move far away it won't be for her,
it will be to ease my mind, my gold and my myrrh.
For the chance you may travel miles to see me,
Instead of across state, i'll be by the sea.
You can see your best friend, your lover, your man
you can just look from a mountain and see where I stand.
It's a place that I've loved of great history and passion,
my love i'll abide with great silence and ration.
It's a city where I can do great things,
not a prima ballerina me it brings,
it's because I'd be closer to that which I love.
And no longer have to look to the stars above.
Just to wonder if you're staring back at them too;
you'll always be my baby, and i'll always stay true.
We may **** in the lack of because physicality one needs,
but please do not dwell on that which proceeds.
I do not dwell on that which has been,
with you and a man you once called a friend.
I only will live in the time that we have,
and I'll always be here to ease the caution you have.
You may move across state, and start your life so a-new,
but I'll remain chasing you, my soul filled with you.

I wish I could behave more so as trees do;
or for that matter, as a tree does.

Be seen for my youth, before growing larger than life;
shading the proud while protecting the ones who cannot protect themselves from the elements.
See my leaves in all their beauty as they blow in the wind
See them change colors while everyone around admired their beauty
See them fall, and rejoice in how i remain without cover;
then when assumed dead, see them reborn again.

Repeating this process, I would, while remaining effortlessly still.
It would look as though I was doing nothing,
yet I would be providing everything.

Maybe I would bare fruit, or maybe I wouldn't.
To me it would never matter. Giving back would be enough.

And one day, when someone greedier than I
would take from me the things I love
they would count my rings and see the illustrious, long, life i had lived.

My remains would be turned into millions of sheets of paper,
and people would write beautiful poetry on me
expressing the inner workings of their souls.

I feel like a body with no title;
A life that breathes with nothing to define it by.

It seems as though my engine as grown idle,
my tires ground to a halt,
my battery on empty (as well as my tank).

As I stand next to my life
     looking into the distance
all I see is fog.
The sound of my last cigarette fills the air around me as
it too
come to a halt.

Just as the last fiber of my being begins to unwind,
in helpless torment of the weight bearing on my soul,

headlights.