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Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
And like broken glass
The secrets intensify.
The vulnerability of time.
Both beautiful and sad.
The sound of broken glass.
Despite how beautiful the shards sparkle.
Despite time.
You'll never know what's on it's mind.
Hand to glass.
The prints left behind to be washed away.
The memories no more.
How can something so precious be replaced for another.
Thrown away without second thought.
It's cruel, unjust.
No explanation other than physical appearance.
The unhealthiest to cope.
The necessity of momentary need.
Another glass set in it's place.
To feel needed in a moment of thirst.
How we feel about the things we have.
Until we realize the one thing we need.
Almost too late
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
To a point of trust.
There is no such barrier as insecurity.
In over one hundred pictures you are free to do as you please.
Intuition doesn't lie.
A sudden sensation that strikes out the blue.
Theres no need for passwords or indiscreet glances.
A rare case trust comes into question.
A certain closure that adjusts to a overwhelming thought.
A sudden reach or pull confirms this serious accusation.
Things change.
A subtle glance to remember the way things use to be.
In over one hundred different pictures I witnessed your body language begin to change.
In over one hundred different ways you hid pieces of yourself behind a password.
In a world where we are free to do as we please.
You decided to hide yourself.
Second guessing that truth would never find the light.
Appearing against the phone of a random stranger.
Another secret.
A light to peek through the crevice
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
Sometimes when it's late.
I turn over and want to call you.
I never do.
Believing that it's best I let you rest.
In reality I need to hear your voice so I too
Can nod off into a decent sleep.
Otherwise I am tossing and turning thinking of you.
It doesn't have to stop there.
This late night call.
Ignoring the middle of the day.
Longing to hear you melt.
Even if you can't talk.
To tell you that I've found a place that I want to stay.
And that I hope you have too.
To wish you a good night.
The best kind of therapy.
A call that leads to spreading the night in your arms.
Finding the sun at night.
To tell you I love you before dozing off.
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
My heart is your second home.
Waiting for you to get home after a long day of work.
Drive up the pathway of eyes and park.
I'll be looking behind the blinds.
Talking to you the whole while.
Pass the trees of every heart throb.
The sun inching further down.
Our moods the opening of the door.
I am hoping that you take tomorrow off.
You've had a long day and I completely understand.
Even if you have to leave, don't forget you always have a home here.
Where you are always welcome.
Where there are no bills, no worldly stress.
The depth of how we communicate.
Always there to welcome you back
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
To be in love.
Her heart was a hill that I climbed with slippery soles.
To be still in the moments of encouragement.
I'd slide down unable to catch my footing.
I acknowledge that I wasn't dressed for the occasion.
Still persisting to climb.
To be in love.
The valley of dream & hope.
I tied my shoes tighter.
My hands filled with grit and grass.
No matter how hard I tried I constantly slid down.
The sky a beautiful mix of orange and blue.
Her love was a sight I longed to see.
The meadow to low to catch the best view.
Everything she has to offer.
I tossed through mud and dirt.
Learning patience in every attempt, the closer I got.
She'd open her arms wide.
And each time I'll fall face first.
Still determined I didn't cease to stop.
I spent a lot of time there.
Lost in a valley of fog.
To afraid to ask for help.
Scared that my secret valley would no longer be my own.
That everything serene.
Everything that I loved would be modernized, torn apart piece by piece.
No matter how many times I slip.
No matter how many times I fall.
I love everything ,
Still persisting to climb.
Learning patience with each step
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
Not until steping closer.
I realized that I was in the palm of your hand.
I left my parachute without regret,
Moving one step closer staring down.
I deeply wanted to understand how free love was.
Standing here,
Realizing how high up everything really is.
Your palm sustaining my weight.
I wasn't at all anixous.
Now thinking that the wind could have shifted me forward before time.
Constantly aware that at any moment.
I will close my eyes and lean forward.
Pass the ridges of pants and tile floor.
Leaving behind everything I knew best.
My comfort zone.
This was me falling in love.
This was me overcoming my fear of heights
Forever in debt to the strength of your hand
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
Sometimes when I close my eyes
I see slight ripples.
Sometimes grain.
I sometimes wonder how most people see the world.
Bright colors.
If everything is as clear as it appears.
I assume it's normal. To wonder if things are there or not.
The static that appears before my eyes.
A desire held within.
The static compensating the reality of how things are.
A visual interpretation of what I miss most.
Nothing ever solid.
A face appearing between the grain.
I can never read her expression.
Dissipating seconds after I open my eyes.
Mounds & mounds of snow.
Sometimes I wonder.
If you ever see the same snow that I see
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