I don't understand this complexity we have,
because sometimes I feel like we have everything under control,
and then the next moment,
control doesn't exist.

Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting against the waves;
pulling me in and pushing me out,
rocking me around however it wills.
Maybe I should just let the sea take me where it wants to;
just floating around with no resistance,
only to have the waves subside,
leaving things in mute tranquility.

He,
is much like the moon.
Not belonging to me,
not belonging to anyone,
an ever-changing spirit,
I can never fully grasp,
that is He.

He,
is like the ocean's shifting tide.
Sometimes so close,
sometimes so far,
pulling me into his arms,
and drowning me in the depth of his soul,
that is He.

No preparation,
all trepidation,
and some meaningful moments of satisfaction.

Nothing unplanned,
but this ship seems unmanned,
it's the chaotic order of our land.

From dust to dust,
this path we must,
death is a season that is just.

Trembling fingers trace the contours of your body,
starting from the straight edge of your jaw,
down to the smooth ***** of your bare chest,
and over the sinewy muscles of your forearms.

I inhale softly,
watching as the pale morning light permeates through the curtains,
falling over your body like a canopy,
committing to memory the quintessence of your being.

Not knowing how much longer I can stay,
aware of the unraveling of cords that bind us,
I desperately hoard the precious fragments of you,
to lock up, weigh down, and toss into the abyss of my soul.

"You are so beautiful", I'd whisper as you sleep,
somewhere off in your dreams,
far away from me.

I'll press my lips against yours for the last time,
savoring the taste of your breath as I stand up to leave.

"It's not you. It's me", will be the pathetic excuse I'll give.
I'll cut you off my contacts,
and block you on my phone,
because darling, I want you to hate me,
until I no longer feel like home.

When the moment comes that I'm finally ready,
I'll unblock you and ring you up.
You'll probably answer me with crude, heated words,
or maybe you won't pick up at all.
"My dear, you are so beautiful",
I'd whisper anyway,
before letting myself fade away into oblivion,
so I can be reborn as a ray of sunlight,
pouring over your body as you make love to someone else.

My love for you is like a cup of tea.

Scalding hot passion is our origin,
submerged in this teacup we call our world.

Soon our withered souls begin to steep,
dark bitterness within begins to seep.

This first foul stew we must discard.
You will learn to agree that this can be hard.

But soon familiar warmth encapsulates,
our true colors and character revealed not too late.

Leaves of varied aroma,
Buds of different flavor,
My love for you is like a cup of tea.
This process of time we must let be.

You were the sun I let everything revolve around.

But like the sun, you took it as deserving.

Ungrateful.

Insatiable.

Self-absorbed in the midst of this vast galaxy,

failing to realize you are just a star,

like all other stars,

not even the biggest,

nor the most fiery.

You were only special because I made you so.

Without my world rotating around you,

you would be nothing more

than just another medium-sized star in this vast, vast universe.

I made homes out of men and ended up on the streets.
But like every displaced,
I was only misplaced.
I soon found a home in another.