He was lighting a cigarette when we met
Smokescreening my view, of him
yet i still looked, and fell
Wink, and drink
And this was a mistake,
His voice cracked when he spoke of her
I could sense his pain in such small sound, almost
Like a whisper
Truly, barely audible, as if his soul wasn't ready to speak of her
As if my soul wasn't prepared to hear
He was kind but not mine.
Today I heard stories of lost love, of hidden pain and misplaced affections.
A man who lost his loved one, his beloved wife. He never got to say goodbye. A simple ‘I’ll see you soon’ was just not there. And all his life, he wonders of infinite what-ifs and could-haves. He loves her, even til this very day.
A woman told stories about her early years with the one she’s married to now. She’s happy. I could tell by the way her eyes kindle when she speaks of him. And that was enough to know that she is still as happy as she was back then.
A friend of mine told a story about her passed grandpa. He would always spend the first few minutes of his days talking with the person sleeping next to him; his dear, treasured love. My friend’s mom would hear them chatter away and she could tell that they were smiling from the back of her door.
A father showed me his notes on his cellphone. One of them was his password to his account I-do-not-know-which; it spelled his daughter’s first name.
You were like breadcrumbs
left unpurposely by my digestion during breakfast
You stayed on the kitchen table 'til noon,
'til Mama swiped away the remaining crumbs,
and I have lunch
with another dish--a different meal.
Something else, but not
They were two lines alike
in resonance at first sight but crumbles
trumbles, and vanishes
to what-ifs and could-haves
of lost goodbyes and almost hellos
a distant star in her eyes
longing for a galaxy in his
she was a box of
cigarettes, waiting to be lit
but would soon run out
of light, of time,
and of you
Y o u
are the lorem to my
She was that Chekhovian girl
who fell for Dostoevsky
and Camus and Sartre
You are in between milk and sugar
Something written on my grocery list;
something remembered daily
And perhaps more.
His eyes were deeper than the Caspian Sea
but I did not drown in it,
he would not let me.
We're both having rain
but we refuse to share an umbrella
After wandering cities
and running away
Let's head home
shut me down, sunshine
let me drown in a sea of questions
--hoping to get an answer
I see stars above the sky
smiling to people walking by,
within the crowd there'd be
yet miles away, somewhere I
Your feelings are an ocean of
But you know your heart is learning of
Said an admirer, said a voice into the void.
Said a prayer into the stars straight to God
simply to be quietly said aloud
when two humans meet, it is
the unification of two
souls; suspended by time
but are then interrupted by fate*
and that is when we met
We are merely dust flying in the air,
endlessly following each other
Until one stops and
falls in love with another
Our souls would rather miss the moon
than the yellow sun
We crave for dusk more than dawn
We say goodbye when all we ever wanted
Watch your step, dear
You can fall for me
Hang me up like a wooden frame on your bedroom wall
Cease me between gravity and the nail that keeps me ta-ll
I can hear the steps of the future coming in close; soon
to take you away and me–farther.
Distancing we, which alters into I and you,
May we be the lost and found,
hiding in the shadows of absence, yet to be redeemed.
Can I may I should I must, I?
Reduce you with words, when
what words could ever do to you is they define you
even more beautiful than ever.
For you cannot be reduced, but
can only grow in an assumption of forever
because we know, you were never real, you
were always, merely, will forever be:
I were vice and
You were versa
Would we meet in the middle
Or say hello in the beginning
Or we would be
Forever lost in
Without knowing why
— The End —