I've never been more happy,
than when you told me you were ready.
So when you pulled back your offer,
I started to think that maybe I'm just not the kind of currency you need.
But I'd like to believe one day you'll take me.
For now, I just hope you call.

I hope
When they cut me
Open
Your name
Is etched
In gold.

And I hope
When they see
Your name
They can picture
Your smile
The way I did.

I don't regret writing poems for you.
The ink I laid to paper couldn't paint my feelings but I tried.
I tried so hard to make you hear me.
I tried so hard to shout into the void and I tried even harder to hear you.
But sometimes things just aren't meant to be.
Sometimes the ink runs.
But it happened for a reason and for that,
I don't regret falling in love with you.

The way he held the door open for my mom was so normal.
The 6 foot 3 inches tall man with a bald head and beard that held forests,
the beer gut that held all the tears he held back,
the tattoos all across his arms and knuckles.
When he held the door open for my mom, I thought nothing of it.
A simple gesture that we're taught of when we're young, it meant nothing.
He made sure his body was parallel with the door, avoiding any chance of contact.
And I wasn't sure why that was until I saw him again,
right after 3 pops.
You see, the burly gentleman wasn't so much of a gentleman,
but a thief.
Because I saw him run out with blood on his shirt,
a piece in his hand,
and stuffed pockets.
The way he ran out, was anything but gentle.
There was no holding the door for the older woman about to walk in,
but a single gunshot to the gut.
4 gunshots, 3 victims,
and 2 now motherless children.
You should know he got away.
My mother is dead.
And I don't let people hold doors for me anymore.

because when she was young,

people would ask her

"what superpower,

do you wish for?"

so without any hesitation

she replied "invisibility."

and then,

and then she grew up realising

it came true.

She left and I'm okay.

There was once a girl,
who decided to lay her heart in front of her,
and let someone hold it for her.
And he held it, kept it warm, beating.
Her rosy cheeks were a testament to the warmth he extracted.
The sun could not compare to the warm feeling in her stomach.
Because,
there was somebody to hold her heavy heart for her.
One day,
he decided he couldn't hold her beautiful heart any longer.
He dropped it,
watched it roll away,
and didn't bother to stay to make sure she found it.
The beautiful girl with the dark hair,
rosy cheeks,
and adorable giggle,
was now a hollow shell.
I remember the first time I heard her giggle.
I realized her shell has amazing acoustics,
because I could hear everything she was thinking:
"Please don't hurt me too."
But you don't have to worry about me.
When I find your heart, I'll make sure to hold it for you.
Until you can hold it yourself.