~

I have stood on aging avenues
watching walls crumble
while destiny’s debris
collects
at my feet

pieces of the past?

I have heard the laughter of babies
and the wail of the homeless,
opposites in a
straight line of
what is
and what might be

voices of the future?

I have stared into the portals of
left over meanings,
methodically
laid out to rest
on long tables
of bad intents

visions cast of shadows?

I have knelt before a dream,
clutching my chest
with indecision,
the pain
a reminder of my
fragile heart-
opened

memories of lost love?

I have cried
without a witness,
empty streams of
dense forgiveness,
requested of no one
and answered by the same

and nothing remains?

maybe we were never meant to be.

maybe you did once love me.

it's that 50% chance

of uncertainity

that fail my relationships

Miserably.

there's a difference between fire and water
that makes you think again about this circle of life
there's always be the cold situation
then hot
and there's up then down
sunset melted into sunrise
and it's always rolling like that
you found a lover and a liar
which you couldn't see the difference
sometimes your lover turned into your liar
and your liar became an angel of nirvana
you couldn't deny nirvana's angel
one day when the night is falling down
darkness is your only friend
you'll see your lover blooms
petal by petal
if you see the one who's falling
that's your liar
because liar couldn't stay with you
when you're in your dark

(a.l)

Love is not rational. It doesn't politely knock on the door of your heart and ask sweetly if it can destroy you all at once.

Love does not take you by the hand and explain all the ways that it will ruin you when it leaves. Love is a powerful hurricane that makes you sit in it's direct path. And forces you to pick up all the shattered pieces by yourself.

Love is a suicide bomber that we invite with open arms with out question to live next to the most precious and sacred parts of us.

Love is the fear that keeps us chained to the basements of ourselves hidden away behind bullet proof glass only to find ourself filled with holes left by cannons

Love is that endless crusade we suit up for. Only to find ourselves completely  naked on the battle field. Bruised and covered in tears that all to clearly look like our own.

I would tell her that this is how you die by distance even being so close.
I would tell her "Hey lover, do you remember me? Maybe you don't, but let me introduce myself and we'll see...".
I would tell her that it's the third time I try to quit smoking, but this is another addiction that will remain. We all need something to prevent us from going insane.
I would tell her that "You can leave, you can always leave, come with me and let's catch a train". I would tell her that "You can come back, you can always come back, that's what a house is, a shelter from pain".
I would tell her that the memory of her rough voice undresses my memories.
I would tell her that her laugh sounds like those perfectly designed sweet melodies.
I would tell her that we are always afraid of each other even when we're not. We are more afraid of being together than of being apart.
I would tell her she doesn't have to believe in her every single thought.
I would tell her that I tried to stop writing about her but everything that comes out of me are love poems and death sighs.
I would tell her that I know everytime that she cries, I can feel it in me, when she lays at night choking in all her lies.
I would tell her that being empty comes with a big price.
I would tell her that I'm mad at her for making it so hard to leave.
I would tell her that I know what she hides behind that sleeve, many scars from all the people that still can make her grieve.
I would tell her that I love her through music, through literature, through nature, through everything my eyes touch...because everything reminds me of her, because I will always love her so so much.
I would tell her that I think she's the most majestic creature.
I would tell her that connections like this are rare so there's no need to be afraid. And maybe I'll need her to tell me the same.
I would tell her that after all this time, I wish she stayed. Or do I wish I stayed?
I would tell her that I never want to say goodbye because everytime she smiles I feel like she cracks open the sky.
I would tell her that this is for her and everyone else who reads this is just a stranger looking through a window at us.
I would tell her...
If I ever met her.