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In the beginning, it was...sublime.
you changed me; made me better.
moments sighs touches caresses, skin on skin
burned into my memory.

                                                               ­                    Remembering it now; a small
                                                                                   shiver running up my spine.
                                                                ­                   A deep breath to calm.

In the beginning, you made me feel beautiful.
Desired.
Wanted.
New experiences for me; never felt before.
Nobody took the time to look at me the way you did.
And nobody has taken the time since.

                                                         ­                             Another shiver.
                                                                ­                      Another deep breath.

In the beginning it was fire.
But a flame soon fades away.
The secret escaped, and you backed away.
Leaving me stranded. And alone.

                                                         ­                            Deep breath.

You stole my happiness, and left me
swirling in a sea of doubt; no raft
of self-confidence for me to cling to.
There were a few times it seemed
you were holding out your hand.
But you were only leading me on,
jerking the raft out of my reach every time.

                                                               ­                Deep breath breathe breathe
                                                         ­                      don't forget to breathe.

In the end, it was ice.
No heat no love no help nothing's wrong
I'm fine, really.
As I continued to carve out my pain on my own skin.
You wouldn't notice now, but the scars are still there.
Lines in the sand.


                                                      Took me over a year to get my happiness back,
                                                           ­        with some help from a few good friends
                                                                ­     I found my own raft. I rescued myself.
                                                         ­               But at a cost.
                                                                ­        The ice is still there. It holds my heart
                                                           ­                     because I am afraid.
                                                                ­                I am afraid to let the ice crack
                                                           ­                     to let someone else in
                                                              ­                  what if it's too good to be true
                                                            ­                    what if I'm not good enough
                                                          ­                      what if
                                                                ­                what if.


My heart stays frozen.
I walk the world with thoughts of you
In every place I go
Your voice is on the winter wind
Your footprints in the snow
And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind
Cuts your name onto my tongue
And beats me till I'm blind
I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed
I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed
Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face
To breathe me and to bleed me
Until I leave this place
They ask me if I still love you.

I blush, grin and say;

of course.

Why?

Because your eyes are of the most utter ocean blue,

but other days they're the currents of the stormy grey sea.

I see a current of salty water, deep, once blue, but now a faded grey.

I see a bundle of darkened grey clouds in the distance,

and the thunder rumbles from your irises,

and I hear it pound in the back of my mind.

I wonder if you knew.

I see a spark of lightening flash, only once in a while,

while you look at her.

My throat corrodes with bile.


She says she sees green demons lurking in the depth of my own ocean currents,

and I shrug.

What am I supposed to say?

I know you think about her.

Night and day.


The hardest part,

is a generic, old saying.

If you love them,

you let them go.

If they love you enough to stay,

or to come back,

you never let go.





But you haven't come back.
EDIT: Wow. Never expected this to blow up as big as it did. I thank you all so much!
EDIT: 2/15/14
i would say i never loved you, but that is a lie.
they say that your *first* love makes *you realize*, your first *love* wasnt really your first.
i pray for the day this happens.
*getting over you was the best thing i ever did.
and i did it for myself.*
so, one last:
*******.
you.***
EDIT: 9/14/14
i still hate you.
and you don't deserve her.
EDIT:   12/01/14
im sorry. you still arent
the same person
and neither is she.
but we all grow up.

EDIT
10/14/20
I was going through my bookmarks
on my old computer and found my old writings.
I just wanted to update this one last time to say things are better,
things are good. Thanks again for all the likes and comments.
There's a girl out there.
And she's been looking for you.
Yet,
Her only problem is,
She's distracted by all these dudes.

Hot ones
Ugly ones.
Smart and stupid.
There's athletic ones
Gamer ones
And the one who acts like a kid.

She's on the verge of crying.
Her head down, almost sobbing in despair.
She sees the guys ; thinking it's you
and they constantly give her heart little tears.

You'll find her on the street
Cold
Accepting defeat.

So it's your job to guide her.
Show her you're the one shes been looking for.
But remember to make sure she's the one.
Mistake her for none.
Ask her her name.



And she'll tell you "Lost."
Clear off the bed
and come lie next to me
or lie with me
or crawl under these sheets
and die with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clear out your mind
and sink down low with me
or get high with me
or hold my hand
and lose some time with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean up your act
and fall apart with me
or fall, apart from me
or fall, a part of me
and take some time to cry with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean out your car
and run away with me
or run to me
or put it in reverse
and go back to the start with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Cleanse your spirit
and embrace this pain with me
or brace for pain with me
or take a moment to put me back together
and just be with me, with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could still get used to this
© 2012 Jene'e Patitucci
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
I'll *******,
If you want.
Cause I want it
Just as bad as you do.
But I also want to hear the rustle of the sheets
When you turn over in the middle of the night.
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck.
I want the stubble on your chin to graze my cheek
As you kiss me gently on the forehead.
And when I whisper "goodnight," you don't have to reply.
Just nudge me with your knee
Or poke me with your elbow.
8/13/12

— The End —