Don't ask me what I see in him because
I do not know the answer to that question,
It's the way he says my name ,
the way he brings out every vowel and consonant.
It is the huskiness in his voice,
the melody in his tone.
It may be the way he smiles,
how his lips curve when he opens his mouth,
how his lips feel when they press against mine.
No, It's his compelling eyes,
they seem to get me to do anything he pleases
like, going down on my knees and...
Yeah, it's his hands,
the feeling I get when they brush against my skin.
it is his arms.
The way he holds me tight
when I'm feeling down or cold.
it is probably his scent
the way I can smell him from a distance
and then get all jumpy inside.
It is how he makes me come,
over on Friday nights and we watch movies
even though he knows how much I hate movies.
It is because he asks me how I'm doing
and actually cares.
It is the way he tickles me
and it actually does not hurt.
It is actually because he makes me feel alive.
He makes me feel like I'm human.

they say only fools
fall in love,
well they must've been
talking about us,
'cos we have
a love so strong,
they'll make statues
and name cities after us.

a love so strong,
songs,
poems &
books
were made in our honour.

a love so strong,
the hands of time and
the cruelty of distance
could not ever come between us.

I find it very strange
how we are all made
from the same elements
formed out of stardust
shaped bones covered in skin
so how come
some girls are pretty

And I'm not

We see each other everyday
not saying the words we need to say
how long do we have to be this way?

Miracles escapes your lips in the form of poetry,
And though kisses would also be pretty,
Nothing captivates me more,
Than when your soul,
Pours out of you like liquid misery.
A river of soul and history,
Do me the honor and quench my thirst.
Allow me to see you at your internal worst,
Because Externally and Internally,
All I see is beauty.

There is nothing more captivating than,
Blood ink and calligraphy.
As your words seeps into my skin
Imprinting on my mental cavity like tattoos from within,
A brand of paper that never gets old,
Sometimes its so intense, truth be told,
I hear you,
Even when your thoughts berate you into stunned silence.

Sometimes I just want to reach out and,
Grab onto the illusions that I store in that
Pandora's box in my mind,
Saving every bit of your broken perfection.
Your voice attack my emotions like an infection,
I become more battled-scared than I already am,
But I will endure your blood wars as much as I can,
Only a poet will know.
I exist only because of prose,
And pain, love and foes.

i can't remember
what it's like to sleep in sheets
that don't smell like you

the day we went to the aquarium
was the day i decided to let myself fall
in love with you, and by 11:54 that
night i was practically suffocating
under the weight of words i did not
know how to say, so i simply took your
hands in mine and hoped that you
could read between the songs that i
whispered as you fell asleep.

we aren't much older
now, but wiser nonetheless,
and i have figured it out

"I wonder if guardian angels cry when they see it all play out;
and as they stand with their hands tied,
do they cry out loud?"**

I wonder if they ached,
when I fell in love with you the first time.
Did they shout, "Stop! You've chosen the wrong one!
Go back, this is your warning sign!"

Or if they begged God
to let them step in
when I was 16 and took too much
of my mother's prescription medicine.

Or if they stared down at me in resentment,
when I ignored the voice in the back of my head
that told me to walk on the main roads
instead of taking that back alley instead.

I wonder if they stand around my bed
when I lay empty and unloved,
wanting to reach out and hold me
but being held back by the realms above.

I wonder if they want to apologize
for my life that didn't go as planned.
And to tell me that their intentions were good,
but interfered with by the evil of man.

I wonder if they would apologize,
for not being loud enough when I made the wrong choice.
And I wonder how many times they've broken the rules of Heaven,
just to make sure that I could hear their voice.

Or if they'd tell me that they've always been watching,
but sometimes human desires overpower their will.
Would they tell me that these things my fault?
Do my guardian angels care, still?

Because the world keeps spinning faster,
and it seems everyone is only out for themselves...
but I wonder if our guardian angels live in regret
because of the times they couldn't save us from ourselves.