I gave, you took,
My heart,
My soul and time.
You left, I stayed,
Withdrawn and supine.
I was a still life,
In the shades and lights of day.
I wrinkled and went dry,
Through skin down to my core;
Was fading and wasting away,
Like a Banksy on a rainy day.

I find it strange that when I look into your eyes I'm not met with an endless starry sky. The world around me doesn't freeze or turn monochrome around everyone but you. I don't see an endless sea or visions of a setting sun, no matter my determination. So how do I know it is love if it isn't as the words I've heard all my life describe?

Yet my heart still drops when you walk into the room, even when your focus is a place far off. People say it's like a flutter but this is far too heavy to use such a light word to describe such a feeling. It's painful, but I know it isn't something ominous or bad because it feels right. How do I know it is love if none if my words describe it right as they should?

I get it every time our eyes meet or you tilt your head and smile with your head in the clouds. I get it when you laugh to yourself or say something hardly above a whisper. When you focus so hard you ***** up and let out that silly sigh of aggravation and I feel such deep affection. Yet is it alright for me to say what I feel is love when I can't even tell myself what love is?

I don't think your eyes need starry skies or my stomach needs a million butterflies. Your smile doesn't need to illuminate the room and my thoughts for you don't need an anchor. Your love shouldn't have an expectation and my words don't need to have a proper diction.

Perhaps I'll see it in your heart or feel it in your touch one day if you feel the same regardless of what the world has sold me with their modern day poetry. I promise you that no matter how hopeless I become I will find out for myself  what it means to love you wholly, even if I have to find out from loving at a distance.

If time heals all wounds,
why does each day without you
hurt worse than the last?

The devil drove a BMW,
He sung to the radio,
He would smile and talk with you
But his heart, stiff, felt none.
He’s soul was dead
Only tears he shed,
So I sold him mine,
Yet nothing, except two dead souls

His and mine.

I live shamelessly
While guilelessly
I know what I did
And did not do

I ask for forgiveness
When necessary
And forge through
The rest of it

Learn from the past
Shape the future
Our presence is present
Make the most of it

Cast upon the steel of frozen rivers
was the cascaded ebbs that be.

Harmony on hill and boughs
blow about in wind that I can't see.

Edging on the hills
were trails carved of old.

I wish I was a King from the east.
In the west, I wish I had his gold.