Two people could never have been more in love than the two of us. A spark at first glance, suddenly roaring as a huge fire. At every moment we'd tell the other how much we loved them and how we wish they'd never leave. Two hearts and two minds, completely intertwined. But now it feels different. The light in your eyes has gone. My smile wiped from your mind. Is this what love is? A flurry of passion then nothing? I thought love was to be shared, nurtured over time, a never ending passion. As I lay here seemingly forgotten, in endless confusion, It seems "love" is just a syllable, it's meaning lost to history and its intent ignored in the doldrum of life. It is why I now ask: Do you even remember my name?

i want to be
the stars in your sky
and the sun rays
that shine on
your face
and maybe even be
the air
in your lungs
and i want to
be one of the reasons
why you smile
why you wake up
and want to be more
than who you are
and i want
to be the soundtrack
to your happy days
and i want to
make you feel
things you've never
felt before
and i want to
maybe even
own a little
piece of your
heart.

Her tune craves for him to sing
with her
not at her.

When he holds her in his hands
she comes alive. His love is
made known in the motions he makes.

Actions speak louder than words.
How beautiful it was that strumming
came easier than speaking.

She wants to be learned but not many
people have time for her complex
tendencies.

And she wants to be heard but
they have all forgotten how to
listen with their eyes.

I reached out and touched
her vibrations as he played.
I cried because I understand.

I will tell you when you're wrong.
I have no problem calling you out on your mistakes
because we both know you're better than that.

I will tell you when I'm wrong as well.
I can put away my pride and admit defeat
because there are things that matter more to me.

I will tell you my thoughts.
I can share all my ideas on the secrets of the universe
because I know you're the only one who understands them.

I will tell you my dreams.
I want you to know every little thing that makes my heart race
in hopes that maybe I'll find

it makes your race as well.

I will tell you of my past.
I will take you by the hand and show you every corner
just so you can hold me when the memories become

too much to bear.

I will tell you my fears.
I will whisper of them all night as we drink our wine
and I will shake at each syllable, but I won't stop.

I will tell you my secrets.
I have so many thoughts inside this wounded mind
that I can't always conjure into words -

but I'll try my best to share them with you,
if you want me to.

I will tell you anything you wish to know
but darling, you must understand -
there are three little words
that I just
can't
tell you.

having to talk about the weather
with someone who knew
*every inch of your soul

There was a woman; with a heart as big as the world. And she wished for love, oh, how she needed love. She wished for poems, and music, and art. For nature, and stargazing, and wilderness. For long nights and even longer drives. She wished for a wanderer like herself. Someone who understands. But most of all - someone who loves her the same way she loves him.

Then, there was a man. A man who put his life on hold, to wait for her. A man who straightforwardly told her that she is the thought that gets him through each day. But they were different. Polar opposites. He knew of her wishes and desires and of the things that made her heartstrings flutter; but he didn't understand them. Because he didn't feel them too. And he was sweet, and warm, and safe, and comfortable, and he tried so hard. She adored him - just not in the way he wanted her to.

And then, there was another man. This man was not like the previous man. No, this man made every broken bone inside her body come alive again. This man had an inexplicable thirst for life and everything it had to offer and he cherished every moment of it. He lived in a way that he never feared death. This man made her see colors and showed her the world she used to know in a different light. He held her hand in a matter that no man ever could and no man ever will again. He opened her eyes and brought her back to life. He made her believe again. And the way he said he loves her brought her to tears each time because, for the first time, there were no lies behind those words.

But she knew. Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew from the start. If she were ever to leave him, the colors would fade, her hands would grow cold and she would forget what laughter tasted like. And him? He would be fine. He had a thirst for life, not for her. He would move on, possibly without looking back. And that was the problem. Because he was the voice inside her mind, and she was just a thought that crossed his from time to time. And he understood her, by god, he knew her right down to her core, better than anyone else ever has. But he didn't need her in the way she needed him.

Now any logical person would come to the same conclusion: it's always better to be with the man who loves you more than life itself; than with the man who could easily go on as if you had never been a part of his life to begin with.

*But love doesn't run on logic, does it?

To you,
Know that I will never be your dream
That my hands are just a little too small, you can barely feel them holding on
That this obstinate heart will always refuse to follow your melody and will try to find its own place in this symphony
That never will your world slow down because these feet were never made to settle beyond a frame

I am like rain in excess; I am not a need to be sought after
I am puddles to be jumped over and over and over
I often find myself in buckets tilted over drains
Because I always spill into houses who never wanted my pains

To you,
Know first that our love was, is, and will never be a fairytale
That maybe our happy endings are found in two different books
And characters whose names are just not written here yet

We have learned how to dream with our eyes open
Believing in the possibility of de ja vu but situated in today
We have studied how to make excuses for our stubborn selves
To fake ink in these pages of the stories we have written out of daydreams
Out of wanting but knowing we could not keep just yet

To you,
Maybe our forever is just for now
or maybe for now is simply the start of our forever
One step at a time, we'll get there;
whether there is found with you a breathe away
or at a bus stop with one bidding farewell,
I can never tell
I can however pour out to you all I hope we would be
But we will only know what can be in the time it will be
So I'd rather keep it to myself

But know that you are never forgotten
There are tears reserved only for the memories of you
Places I could never quite stand on again because
My silhouette would always fail to fill the spaces like you’d always do
Words on repeat that never lost the sound of all pain I knew like “almost”:
We almost made it,
You almost stayed,
I almost held on,
We almost fell,
You almost relapsed,
I almost let you,
We almost forgot that our love is not all that we have
That our hearts are never always right
That our love does not define the word itself
Know that I never doubted your love
But there is a love that came before them all
Written in the prologue by the writer up above

To you,
Thank you for loving that I will never be your dream
That my hands are just a little too small, but you can better hold on
That this stubborn heart will always refuse to follow your melody and have added its own beat to your symphony
That never will your world slow down because these unsettling feet have drawn you out

I am like rain in excess; I am not a need to be sought after yet you chose me still
You say I am puddles to be jumped into again and again and again
I often find myself in buckets tilted over flower pots
Because I finally spilled into a house who knew the worth of this "excess"

To you,
Thank you for loving the rain.
For saving me in buckets and closing the drains
I will never really know why I love you lover
Because all these could never find reason of its own
But maybe this little girl simply took after her Father
Who loved beyond the uncertainty and visions of the other

Thank you for pulling me down from skies
For reminding me that my soles were always meant to kiss these grounds
That dreams aren’t always the best,
That one day I’ll thank God for handling the rest

So I throw away my worries and cast my cares aside
I need not fret about being saved because though no prince was sent, the King came down himself
I was never formed as a half in search to be completed
But created as a whole with the option to love beyond the convenience
And out of all these choices,
I chose you to love you

To you,
I’ll be okay.
I am slowly remembering to not seek warmth in the created but in the Creator
I have found the praises He has always filled my heart to store
And have learned to shout them again
My home is not in your arms but wherever roof my Father settles me down
His love is too vast to be swallowed by this ocean of tears
That I have stopped forcing myself to settle for dreams
This heart may be longing for the sun it always found in the rubbing of our two hearts,
But He? He filled it with the universe- with stars and galaxies, with some I have yet to know what

To you,
How do you end this poem? Find satisfaction that these lines will justify memories that will never die and memories that are yet to be?
I. Don’t. Know.
So then listen to the silence that will come in between my stepping back and the applause
Because maybe, hopefully, saying nothing will tell you everything this compilation of carefully collected words could never hold

Darling, this is for you. And maybe me too.