darling,
i will always miss you

the way you laugh
in a freefall
eyes,
your beautiful eyes,
too brown,
too full of life,
too wonderful

lips that are too full with laughter,
and mine
your words that are too
**** kind
and open arms
like something out
of stained glass

a mirage,
something finally correct
after thousands of years

a
smile

kiss

whatever
you’ve
got

i miss it,
always.

i believe,
even the stars
get tired.

when the night sky
had folded them away
back into the darkness

and the moon,
that lonesome thing,
has doused itself in shadows.

so will you too, my friend
shy away from the light
as if it would burn
if it reached you.

maybe you feel,
you just are not strong enough
to face the day.

that the midnight hour
is a broken thing

and oh, the silence
is deafening.

and you and i know, even the stars
are tired.

you mourn for them
as their light expires.

it’s not difficult to love
someone like her

it’s as if every particle of mine
is yearning to rip itself to pieces
just to crash into hers

it is both agonizing
and the sweetest relief
when she holds my hand

and when her lips finally met mine
i felt all the known universes collide
and realign
to keep the two of us
in the center of the fray.

she stays,
the way nobody else has before
and i want for nothing more
when her eyes meet mine
except for maybe just a little more time
to drown in those earthen hues

and if i am to spend the rest of my life
loving her as ardently as I do,

well, i will press a kiss
to the pulse of her wrist
and thank God every time,
that she exists

over and over
and over again,

i will trace every ounce of her skin
with gratitude.

there were times
when all you needed
was a soft place to fall
and nobody extended
their arms to catch you

but i hoped,
a blackbird would startle
and flap her wings
and bunker further
into her nest
and the sound of her chicks
whispering back to her
was enough to keep you going.

and there were times
when you needed a hand to hold
but all you could grasp
were the shadows,

but then the moon
would pour liquid silver
to light your way
and it was enough
to make you stay.

and then,
there were times
when you were so alone
that the ghosts in your chest
felt more like home
than the people around you,

but your cousin’s laughter
would echo down the halls
enough to suspend your fall

and though you are aching
and though you are breaking
the way all things do

i'd like you to know,
that this life is worth living
in spite of it all.

the hard part
about being in despair
is it’s infectious

you speak of it
and all of a sudden
all the others carry the burden

as if it is their fault
that you are unhappy.

sadness
is an isolating thing
that tells you to reach out
for someone else

only to realize
how damaging it is

and so you cave deeper
within yourself
as if your ghosts
could fill the place
your loved ones used to be

it is a lonely thing,
your sadness, my friend.

it tells you that you are no good,
for those around you,
and that you are unworthy
of their help

so you cave in
to yourself,

and find your ruin
in the silence.

the hardest part
of loving you,
will not be to let you go,

it’s holding on to you,
when life rears its head
and threatens to tear
the two of us apart.

and in spite of the wounds
on both of our hearts,
we must keep a grip
and not let them slip
away,

we must stay
and weather the wreckage together
as if destruction
is kinder when it is shared

and baby,
even if you’re scared
of bearing the scars,
you must not let them mar
the sanctity of the love
within the hollow of your chest.

the hardest part of love
is not knowing when
we will fall to ruin

but still choosing to stay
anyways.

and I know,
every time i will hold your face,
it will feel like i am holding treasure
caressing the jewels and golden riches
i don’t want to slip from my fingertips