I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight

It's just four words
But his knees are up his lips
Afraid it might not work in the long run
If she leaves one day
Will he ever find love again?
He loves her like the ocean waves kissing the shore
Like the sun burning despite sleeping but his love beating with fervor
For the gleaming moon with elegance in its eminence
But these four words are impossible for him to speak
"Will you marry me?"
Might never cease to exist

He doesn't know where to begin, for these four words overwhelm him
Flooded with excitement but doused in fear, losing his train of thought when she's near
His love for her burns a flame so bright, lighting up the darkest of nights
He thinks to himself, "we've leaped the hurdles of three words, I love you, I can do these four"

He imagined the first night with her
Will be the most intimate, not ***
But just being with her in bed
Pillow fights to jumping on springs
Talking until the sun rises
Knowing that this will be forever
With these reveries in his head
He cast aside all the enmities and fear inside
Looking at that Tiffany & Co Heart shaped diamond
He called her and said to himself
"This is it. I can do this."

Into the room she glides, glowing like an angel descending from heaven
With a questioning expression, exploring him up and down
She asks "Yes my love?"
With the confidence of kings, he kneels before his queen
Before a word slips his mouth, diamond rivers glisten
Streaming down her scarlet cheeks, he reaches out to her hand
*"Sweetheart, I would like to ask for your hand,
Will you be mine forever?"

Coffee stains on these lips you stained
Your breath I can still feel, whispering 
"I'll never leave"
But promises are feigned to be broken 
Deigned with trust, words that matter unspoken
Fate played its twist, karma hit me like I deserved this
Past loves I slaughtered, they'll be laughing now
"I hope he'll die a loner"

These lips are stained
With more than just coffee
They are stained and tainted
With the ghost of your memory.
I still recall, last fall,
When you took the words 
I love you and 
Breathed life into them
As you whispered them gently
In my ear
And stamped your name
Underneath my rib cage
I remember how sincere
You sounded,
How so willingly 
I plucked them from the air
And surrounded
Myself, in their warmth.
I'll never forget, 
The yield of regret,
That comes with not 
Building up walls
And putting up a safety net
For all of those times you
Let me slip
Between your fingers
And the pain it still lingers.
Your promises were made
Empty and broken
The lies and deception
Apparent yet unspoken.

Life's expectancy to decree what I believed 
That our love was bound by fate
If only I didn't get my coffee that day
We would never have met
And I won't be dealing with this heartache
I hear but I can't see
Blinded by your Iloveyou's 
Those 7 letters, three words will be the death of me
Clinging on to hope, hoping you'll be my last
But like the others you left, 
For the first time, leaving me broken
Helpless and leaving me wanting more
Was it even real for you at all?

I thought that maybe
I had finally found the one
But past lovers
They too, had upped and gone
And I'm left thinking
And wondering
*Is there something wrong,
With me?

I love you all, here on Hellopoetry.
Without you. I wouldn't know where I'd be, or even who I'd be.
Thank you.

In that moment,
descending into a drunken mess,
he tried to grasp at the moon but stumbled over his own soul,
what might have become or may have been,
ours is not to tell,
nor is there rhyme or reason,
for betwixt the threshold of darkness and a flickering candle,
the beacon to the lost is sometimes found,
inwardly looking at the reflection within,
not with standing the image without,
all is but a dream.

On the day
her body burned
she asked the
winds to be
her friends
and they
picked her
up and poured
her through
the fingers of
their hands
like a river
without ending
that won't
be tied or
bound, until
every trace of
dust embraced
the freedom it
had found.