You come running back because you expect her to be there.
You don't have the slightest clue of how much it hurts her.
But there you are, digging deeper for that love that you don't deserve.
Because she thinks it is real, but little does she know that it is all a game.

You don't want her because you love her or because you care for her.
You don't want her because you admire her or because it was the little things that she said and did.
You don't want her because you think she is beautiful or because she was worth remembering.

You want her because you can have her.
You want her because you know she will take you back.
You want her just because you know that you can always have her.
And she is so clueless to see this all.

Because she wants you, for all of those unexplainable reasons.
Because she sees the good that no one else can.
She sees the strong-willed heart that has been hurt so many times by life's untimely struggles.
She sees what no one else can see.

Her heart is an open, abandoned, and run down house that the poor take refuge in.

They don't take refuge because they choose to.

They take refuge because it is the only thing that can help them survive.
Because it is a roof over their head, protecting them from natures death.

They take refuge because they need to survive.

You take refuge because you need to survive.

She takes refuge because she helps you survive.

A composition plays softly
I listen
A caressing sense so cooling
Feeling deeply
A velvety mistress
Appeared
Lovely
As a ingenuous tigress
Tender like a lamb
Grazing in green pasture
A woman so committed
To love suddenly
Emergence in a blink
Abundance is she
Our moment in time
In a vision her beauty fades
As I open my eyes
She is no more

I miss your laughter, your smile
your eyes filled with emotion
the click, the chemistry,
the imagination
I miss your voice so soothing
your hands so soft the touch,
the conversation, the wisdom,
oh all of you so much
A quivering in my soul
that can never be matched
a sparkle in my eyes
and a heart that beats so fast
to make me laugh until I cry
or tears of tenderness
and the love, sweet love
a love truly
endless

My forefathers gave me
My spirit’s shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.

But it was my lovers,
And not my sleeping sires,
Who gave the flame its changeful
And iridescent fires;

As the driftwood burning
Learned its jewelled blaze
From the sea’s blue splendor
Of colored nights and days.

One face looks out from all his canvasses,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans;
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queenin opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer greens,
A saint, an angel;--every canvass means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him
Fair as the moon and joyfull as the light;
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

Storms have beaten on this point of land
And ships gone to wreck here
          and the passers-by remember it
          with talk on the deck at night
          as they near it.

Fists have beaten on the face of this old prize-fighter
And his battles have held the sporting pages
          and on the street they indicate him with their
          right fore-finger as one who once wore
          a championship belt.

A hundred stories have been published and a thousand rumored
About why this tall dark man has divorced two beautiful
     young women
And married a third who resembles the first two
               and they shake their heads and say, "There he
          goes,"
     when he passes by in sunny weather or in rain
     along the city streets.