As I drink a warm cup of coffee on a cold day I sit back and think about us.
How I used to wait for you to get back home so we could spend a couple hours together, chatting our worries away, before I had to leave until the next day.
How we managed to make Skype seem naughty.
How we longed to be finally together someday.

It was never easy living an ocean away, but we sure tried our best to make it work... and it did.
We found love in the strangest place, and we couldn't be happier.
You made me smile. I made you smile. It couldn't get any better than that.
But all good things must come to an end someday.

Nothing lasts forever, no matter how much we promised each other it would.
Things change.
Mistakes are made.
Hearts are broken.
Tears are shed.
In the end it's all a part of life we all dread, but must face sooner or later.

As I gaze at the fire, consuming the wood in a divine dance of death, I realize that it was all for the best.
I wasn't the one you loved in the beginning anymore.
I hurt you so many times it was only right to end it all.

I apologize for all the pain I caused you, and wish you the best in this future without me.
You'll do better this way.

For me, I'll just be happy as long as you are.
I learned to be another me, the best me I can possibly be, and it's all thanks to you.
Now it's time to make my life away from you, even though I'll miss you.
I now know things had to be this way, but I wish we hadn't said goodbye before we met.

Words you speak are ***** to A drunken man.
Actions you take are sun to A dried up land.
Thoughts you think are empty like your promises.
Your mouth is poisonous  like a snake that hisses.
Your touch is cold as the void in your heart.
I wish your heart was a race,
A race with no start.
Your being is vile as a slithering serpent.
Your mind is a maze,
A maze with no hint.
A continuous game.
No start.
No finish.
I want your life to be full of torment and anguish.

I yield to an overwhelming desire for you  
I’m constantly fighting temptations….  
but losing the battle before it starts  
I've abandoned sound reasoning,  
and entertained demented judgment...  
due to my lustful imagination,  
driven by ****** thoughts of you.  
I'm being coerced by framed images,  
and enticed by your natural glory  
For you have weakened me,  
with intense craving...  
that blush at my flesh.  
I can feel your body clothe mine,  
dressing me in fabrics of passion,  
stitched together with wanton thread.  
Focusing on highly charged ****** episodes,  
Stuck on repeat....  
...in my mind.  
How I wish I could feel you,  
seducing my skin with feverish chills...  
as I fantasize of you,  
Breaking me down and exposing my core  
becoming the other part me,  
Allowing the friction of your tightness  
to tease my hardness,  
as it collides with the warmth of your wetness.  
****!  
This WANT is crazy….  
but this NEED is insane.  
I want to feel you…..  
I NEED to feel you…

When I tell you that I love you
I’m saying that I care
In you I’ve found a friend
That is wonderful and rare


When I tell you that I love you
The meaning is so profound
For, in you my fate has been uncovered
And my soul finally found

When I tell you that I love you
What I’m trying to express
Is that you can always count on me
I’ll give you nothing but the best

When I tell you that I love you
I’m trying to convey
How much I admire you
In a thousand different ways

When I tell you that I love you
I’m saying “thank you”
For for being who you are
For being a part of my life
And touching my heart

When I tell you that I love you
It’s not exactly what I mean
To explain what I feel for you
Would take a zillion words
Not three

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning's of chance
My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I cannot stop you from loving me but I can start hating you. That would be my last act between us, with all your voice can do to me. When mine grows hard and nothing remains other than kind cruel empty. Then I would fling myself off the edge.
I wonder sometimes what it is like to start all over again, there is little to burn before I could do it. Take that risk. Go somewhere else with no one for a family or close in heart. How quickly I would find that prolific beauty that is stranger than its own kind. - There is this obsession with kindness and the word kind, I see. - But what of that place if it were not there, nothing inside tying its meaning to material existence? Even to all the people I know my kindness grows small and I snap off anything that could take any of me with them. Steal my heart, take my love, in kind, for granted. To use it for selfish grand or minor schemes. I cannot allow. I cannot let it. I will not.

Sometimes I smile and there is laughter, I soften to a response. All that was made before is still there, before anyone knew me, and stole those bits I could have kept. I shield myself, protection in hindsight. Is it still necessary?
There are those whom I love and they are far away. Where, when they are close by or shadows across misty seas of distance. This might eventually give me shelter. Possibly.

So now I make myself to hate you. Out of protection for my soul. But I feel cold. The flame is all I have to keep me warm. So I ignite inside with fierceness. I cannot be held in, this need for freedom is stronger than anything. If to feel this faith of an illusion is to be caged within myself again.
How would it feel to know it the right way? There is still the empty, the vast and vacuumed void to deal with. I ask God if I should dive into her and discover my true core. Acid stripped, bare and bleeding out. All that is left is what existed outside of my idea of you and all those whom I liked to be like you. Objects of some kind of figmented affection: clinging on and sticky with the tears for replacement of what I once had called love. Then I would walk the long road to healing again.

So, now I hate your voice and the memory of your broken English accent. All the ones who had come before and after you. They get not the reverence I give to you. Those clear brown eyes that turned out to not care enough, to save us. Or was it me that made it so, after our forced end? Only once, you showed the daring to break from my spell. Through redacted words though, not the voice that had given a haunted home to my thoughts. But they held no defence to my pleas of anguished honesty.

Once, I will be through with you. I will have learned not to hate despite your love. That one thing which makes me feel still so course. Your silence will have sanctioned my forgiveness and argued the release of my heart. Perhaps, I could cry with someone again.

© December 31st 2012