Nov 2013
These winter mornings make me miss you,
Your scent, your breath, how you always left me,
The pet names we called each other,
The small pieces of foreign languages we meant,
Your “Lo siento”s, your Elvish “I love you”s (‘Amin mela lle’),
The day of silence, I learned to sign my heart for you,
I learned so much through it all, my brain teemed,
But you only taught me how my pain was true.
(And how to kiss.)
Winter mornings without warmth.
A compass with no North.
11-12-13
Your scent, your breath, how you always left me,
The pet names we called each other,
The small pieces of foreign languages we meant,
Your “Lo siento”s, your Elvish “I love you”s (‘Amin mela lle’),
The day of silence, I learned to sign my heart for you,
I learned so much through it all, my brain teemed,
But you only taught me how my pain was true.
(And how to kiss.)
Winter mornings without warmth.
A compass with no North.
11-12-13
I miss her, I really do. I miss them all. All three.
She was the first, and, I don't think I will ever stop loving her.
Even when I know it's masking the hate, and only slightly.
She tried to ruin my life. Succeeded for months. Almost a whole year.
Then I fought back.
On another note, I wrote this in a book I've been carrying with me. I wish I could share all of its contents. Btu I can't. Expect to see more hand-written poems like this one.
P.S. I write for myself, I just post because it feels like my duty as a creator, to share.
She was the first, and, I don't think I will ever stop loving her.
Even when I know it's masking the hate, and only slightly.
She tried to ruin my life. Succeeded for months. Almost a whole year.
Then I fought back.
On another note, I wrote this in a book I've been carrying with me. I wish I could share all of its contents. Btu I can't. Expect to see more hand-written poems like this one.
P.S. I write for myself, I just post because it feels like my duty as a creator, to share.
