It was a look in her eyes I'd never
seen in his-
Taken a bit off guard but
looking, as it is-
Respectfully, she's got respect but
don't know how to read a room
Respectfully, after a year she stopped making me feel desired
Broken finger, love still as tombs--

I miss that look in her eyes.
She became for me what he was.
Took me a bit off guard but
also built up over a year or two-
Respectfully, I wouldn't ****-talk her but also sometimes she was mean
Don't know, did she intend it?
Or are we all needlessly cruel things?

By the end I felt disgusting.
The beginning was sublime.
I read these poems and realize,
we did it right, and she was mine...
But I see now loving isn't always enough.
You have to work at it.
She tired of working.
I had to leave.

And she was tired, but not of me.
She’s such a sleeping beauty,
That I could stare at her all day.
Look at her, God! Just look at her
This day can’t get any better.
Isn’t she pretty, like some deity?

She blushes, she smiles,
She looks at me, from miles
All this while, looking at her
I realize already, that I’m into her
She doesn’t speak a lot,
Her eyes do it, taking her part
Whenever I say I love you,
Her lips go wide
From smile to grin,
Grin to blush
If this isn’t worth falling for,
What is?

She lifts me up, when I’m down,
She thrashes me, when I’m dumb
She cooks for me, when I want it the most
She showers love on me, when I need her the most.

And then she hugs me tight,
All worries were out of my sight.
That’s when I know, I’m hers,
No worries, Coz she already knows, she’s mine

~ PG

When the calmness returns, the words spoken in fury cannot be recalled.

I can't sleep
Hope you can't too
There is that feeling keeps me awake
Which you know too
A dream is all I ask
Dream that includes you
I couldn't understand
What did you do
To make me beg for
One dream about you

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the. mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

i remember you
once saying that
you loved the clouds.
the way you would speak
about their beauty
contributed to your own
beauty, & i wanted
part of that world.
i learned all the
different types of
clouds, all the
shapes, all the
colors. i wanted you
to see their beauty in
me. but i only appreciated
them ; you were
the girl who truly
loved the clouds.