... The only thing that hurts
is knowing that someone else
sees you through my eyes.

In a world begging to share perspective,
I hide mine like a cat's treasure
in crevices,
old corners,
poems,
laughter,
concern,
dismissal
and comfortable silences.

In a world where we're begging for company,
I'd rather be the only one who thinks you're
a lone star in the city's night sky,
a leaf in my old books and new,
sunshine on a windy day in autumn —
sunshine, always.

My eyes may grow old and go blinder
But, love, the light in your eyes must never fade.
There is so much universe inside you —
my universe —
and I struggle to keep up with everything that you are and everything I made you in my head.

You're my fantasy,
mine to make true.
It's probably why they say love is akin to madness.
You're not too far from delusion
or too close to reality
at any point of time,
till you crash and burn.

The light in your eyes still burns
and I burn along with it.

To doubt is to be sure
that you're only seeking
the highest peak of perfection.

To doubt, you have to know
what it is like to be good just once.
Once is enough to crave
the high once again.
You chase your heart
and you chase the hearts of others,
only to doubt your need
to be loved.

To love is to find
courage,
strength,
patience,
and trust
within you --
wrapped up in layers,
like Russian dolls nestled
within each other.

To love is to rise
and fall from grace
all at once;
to understand what every song means,
what every poem spoke of
and what you looked for
when you grabbed a cold hand in the dark.

To love is to doubt.
To doubt is to love.
To do either well, we must do both
till the answer is found within us.

You're the answer to all my doubts.
And so, I love you without doubt today.

Somebody told me that you can always find your way home. That is because home is not always a place. As I sit at my desk, exhausted by nothing but what weighs on my heart, I realise — you’re home. You always have been and no one can compete with that. We can build a home together with our disagreements, our lonely nights and the love we think we deserve. But, that doesn’t matter as long as we keep it together.

You’re (I’m) the shelter I (you) seek.

You’ll kneel at altars and beg for a sense of belonging, but your home is here.

I wrote paragraphs looking to find ways
to explain why I write about this (you).

I found my way treading lightly
along the edges of truth and fiction;
just like my stories.
It’s not easy to tell the world when
you’re brimming with words about something
you’re almost afraid to share.
The fear of loss exceeds the joy of telling,
like being afraid to tell someone about the last chocolate in the jar you saved for Monday evenings or rainy days.

So, I would like to tell my audience to give up.
Stop reading between the lines.
I don’t write for anyone.
I don’t write for you.
I write for my dreams.
I write for the person I placed in
Houses,
Darks rooms,
And hearts.

Your naïve eyes won’t find the songs I hide in poems.
That is why we shut our eyes when we sing.
We only find our real audience behind the curtains,
Waiting to run into us backstage.

I don’t know why I stayed up all night
if I wasn’t counting stars in a sky
where there is no hope for sighting anything but fading stars.

There’s only so much warmth this blanket for one
And cat (for herself) can give someone.
So, I learn to curl
up into myself and find myself
talking in circles when I talk about this.

I fear the things my heart chases because they might not be good for me.
I fear the things my body chases because they might **** me.
I fear the things my mind chases because I might lose my will to feel.
I might be afraid of the fear that surrounds me suddenly like an ocean.
Or even like a prisoner in a tightly wound rope in a dingy cell.

I fear the words I write right now
for they might define me.
What if I was the wind?
What if I changed?
How dare my words become my only identity?
I am more. I am more.

Yet, I am so little. So small. So insignificant. A speck, a drop, a freckle, an atom, a cog in the wheel.

I am alone. But, I am not the only one.

I’d say my guilt drives me down
the road I’d rather not walk without you.
We share the blame of our mistakes.
Our selfish needs get in the way.

Bodies intertwine in an exchange of words.
I give myself away for nothing but a smile.

I’d whine but my heart is full.
Overflowing as we speak,
Adding more with every sigh on my neck.

“You’re more in my head, I guess.”

I throw my head back and laugh,
intoxicated with power.
But, the truth is you are the one holding the rein in your hand.
Let me go.