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I have always loved you.

I imagine us 30 years down the road.
I am massaging your shoulders,
relieving knots.
Life gets me in knots too.

I've put the kettle on
I have my own key now so I come and go as I please
like the old friend I've become.
I feed your cat when you go away at weekends.

Smelling your pillow
Remembering you at 40.
Your dressing table
as I pictured it.

I have my own family now
but I met you 10 years before I met my wife.
I rode the wave of your smile,
came crashing down
the day you announced you'd met someone,
holding out for the real thing.

For; I was just a boy,
what could I deliver apart from newspapers
and the odd dodgy innuendos? you laughed at
tossing your hair.
Humouring me
but,
Never letting on that you cared.

I slip away every second night
when the second hand rests between the 8 and the 9
and it is quarter to 10.
I am on my way to see you.
We play cards and toast a drink into midnight.
Sometimes I reach for your delicately aged hand
twiddling with your rings,
knowing mine would have been the sparkly one.
But not a patch on you.

We lock eyes for around a minute,
My throat is dry.
Telepathically I tell you
I have always loved you.
Whether you are 45 or 75
I will always love you.
Not to be confused with the song ;p
Dear last meaningful kiss,

It's hard to start this,
because long ago I was in such a bliss,
I dont know what to write,
but this cigarette in my sight,
is counting down the end of our night
The guitar is playing its final thoughts
and I reflect on the what to do and not's,
as I start to write the script again.
People stare at me as I write this aloud,
for I want everyone to know, I am not proud,
that this even exists,
but it does.

Your face is what haunts me the most.
When I stare at the coast,
fantasies of memories arise,
but vanish as I feel the falseness of lies,
creep upon me,
like a villain in a play,
but these thoughts I must put away.
They won't get me anywhere.

Except a lonely stare,
into peoples hearts that I seem to try and confide,
but in this rule book I'm writing I must abide,
and leave your side.

I dont think you get what this hurts like,
to ride a bike,
into nothingness of blank words,
that I reflect upon in past writing.
But back to the script I keep fighting,
there is no shading or lighting,
just another poem that I follow.



Dear the love that was never true,

I wonder if your writing too,
or if you even know you,
cause you like to dance around this heartbreak,
like an old soul tries to avoid youth, just for the sake,
sake of wondering what to do next.

As I write this script on my invisible paper,
I have to remember too add the hooded caper,
that's nestled in the shadows, that I frankly never see,
and add reluctantly.
I will look back and think that part wasnt necessary,
but my heart and eyes are wary,
of knowing when to put down my pen.

This will be a sad thing to write,
because night,
is sadly ending,
with the stars starting to fade,
I must abide,
with the fears that reside,
that I must tap onto this screen,
and make sure in this last hurrah, you dont seem mean.




Dear the one who use to be the spark in my nod,

I hear many applaud,
but I wont let myself smile, for this love story shouldn't have ended,
or maybe it hasnt just yet, and just has bended.
Mind is amended,
the wrong doings of past fames,
I can remember the actors I write, but not their names.
As I put my script into print,
and watch the masses on their screen,

"I must say I hate the ending myself,
but it started with an alright scene."


From the heartbroken kid,
with love.
So I wrote this when I was a wee teenager going through heartache...I always really liked tthe title and some of the lines *straightens tie* are most badass....If I ever do a compilation book, I'd split it up into sections, and my heartbreak/ache poems would be called...you guessed it, "the heartbreak letters"...I hope you enjoyed it :]
The innocence of a sunrise,
a dance in the middle of the street,
putting on pjs and getting some early morning fries,
a simple love, a love thats new,
watching the sunrise, and staring at the sky while swinging and tasting the blue,
hands getting sweaty,
and nights are too long,
there is no such thing as a sad song,
and if there is, its to remind you what you have left behind,
clouded mind,
full of future times
that always seem so golden
while the past seems to fade away,
a butterfly in the tummy,
its forcing its way through,
a simple love, a love that's new.

It's long past,
and the love wasnt the last,
it was cute and fun,
that made me like everything a little bit better and brighter, including the sun,
it was easy and made sense,
but now we just look over the fence,
at other loves that have made things work,
we may grab hands and say were certain,
but as we around us begins to fall the curtain,
separating our yards,
throwing into the air all 52 cards,
grabbing and screaming at the air,
I do not dare, try and break the steel curtain,
and through the holes I can see her smile,
who knew it would be here and gone so fast,
looking back on the past,
it was a love that couldnt last.

Now every time I see,
lovers saying "I'll never leave",
I get a butterfly forced in my tummy,
it pulls oot its money,
and buys a beer,
flapping around drunk and insecure,
making me stumble and run,
and listen as the song is sung,
making the new songs sound blue,
I miss that simple love,
a love that's new.
I wrote this a year ago...I think it ends a little wonky, but I also think its badass nonetheless...I want to be in love again, but I dont want to go through the whole beginning, I just want to grab a ******* the street and kiss her and ask her in French if we could fall in love, but that would be creepy...plus the beginning is usually the best part, right?...right? girls, they **** me.
Drunk on nostalgia,
and longing for the past,
looking at who is still my friend,
and the ones gone too fast,
I miss them all,
but I dont want any of them here,
but then again my courage out weighs my fear,
and I see it all so beautifully clear,
what I would do to hear that smile,
or see that laugh,
feel that giggle,
and dance during math,
to have stories of yet to comes,
and what dreams we have with the future suns,
friends of guys and girls,
sending my world into swirls,
and dancing with the flame,
the band maybe different, but the music is still the same,
we all just have a new name,
that is a representation of the yesterdays,
and I miss the the future and past figuring's of today's faze,
nostalgia is weighing the other half of my couch down,
as it is my friend, my smile and my frown,
I'd push them all away,
if I didnt know they were here to stay,
so I might as well enjoy the ride,
because life is just a rock skipping on a pond,
thrown by a bad hand,
I'll keep saying it along with you,
the next skip is new,
but its the skip behind that I'll think aboot in the next few
I had a collection of lines I have been wanting to use, and I was feeling nostalgic...might as well smash both together and make something worth while right?  I think I di, hopefully you did too
Feelings Travel Poem
3/15/2014

flying creatures
end up crawling in your sneakers
when they lose their will to fly
traverse among the clouds over continents
but those that swim are worse.

swimming creatures
they'll weave through your dreams
leave an island to be lost at sea
thinking you can't see
what's under the murky emotional water.

walking creatures
take their time on the gravel and grass
surprisingly harder to find
like little fuzzy things,
granule grains engrained in my eye sockets.
small enough you can fit a million of 'em in your pockets,
ready to reveal whenever.

What do the flying creatures, walking, or swimming
all have in common with me?
That they carry their feelings inside tiny hearts beating
and their feelings travel all the same.

sometimes feelings fly,
sometimes they swim,
sometimes they lose their will to walk and crawl.

Hear this creatures.
no matter if you're feeling so small,
trapped in between life's walls,
or feeling nothing at all,
those feelings you'll carry at all - times,
Because feelings travel.
You’re just rough enough
To make me tremble, and squeal,
And this delights you.

Make me helpless, Take
Everything you want, push me
Facedown, hold me fast.

Desire, raging fire,
Clothes rip, teeth nip, you devour,
Merciless master.
Apparently, 'Desire' and 'Fire' can be either two or one syllables, handy!
A little wobble
Pleasure's payment, my own, earned,
Juicy little bounce.
Virtual kisses scattered across cyber-skin
Can feel more real than an actual press of lips,
Each a little pull, an ache, within.
Sensual stories do provoke a rush,
Evocative, delicious, stirring, lush,
But, there is no substitute for strong arms, encircling
a slender waist, there is no online-version of the warm sweet taste
of lips and tongue. Such precious words
Should be whispered, to a trembling, eager heart
Not typed onto a screen, too many miles apart.
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