I feel sad again. Just because I am convinced that the love I have been looking for does not exist. People may love you with all they have, just not the way you want. I’ve never in my life, met a person that asked me questions about myself. Except one. But he’s dead anyway. When you tell a story, people ask questions if they are interested in what you have to say. I always ask details and questions because I am curious about the experience that person had when they were in the situation. It could be meaningless, or just a simply story. But I still want to know, because I care. Because when I listen, I really listen. I digest every single word into my brain as if I have to remember due to a quiz the following day. But, I listen to what I want to listen. If I am not intrigued, its like you are not even there. I have something better to think about as you ramble on about something that is not going to help me obtain information about yourself. I want to know everything about you. So I could really love you for you.

I hope someday someone feels that way about me too.

We’ve accomplished grace
In the eternal august night
To unchain a soul that is contrite
Her soft touch gave men a pleasurable fright
She made me endless dry nights
With a twist of the forthright sunrise.

I’m wondering
I’m wandering
In your vast spacious eyes
I’ll find exile in your fragrant dream
I’ll watch your promises steam
In the waning night
I felt the lunging freedom by the touch of your hand

To the glimmering dusk
We’ve failed to alternate
To the passing bliss
We reasserted
To your musky perfume
Angels tried to elaborate

Frozen words of wonder you maimed
A love hitherto acclaimed
Wintertime is upon us
Memorabilia
Worn dour faces
Grazed by memories

Wintertime is upon us
Lenient breaths
Defying the freezing weather
Like white cotton bursting into the air
Numbed fingertips
And cold lips
Winter was the season of you heart
Winter became the season of my life

Now loneliness is my last supper
The ice for my heart will scupper
I’m alone amidst the feral waves of sobbing
And my heart is drunk with its salt
The crescendo will exalt
Now I must repent
For the placid lament

Let me tell you a little story,
About a girl called me,
Who had a broken heart,
That nobody could see,
But she felt it,
So she smiled through it,
Because she didn't want other people to feel it to,
Sometimes a frown is just as contagious as a smile,
Or that was what she thought,
So everyday she fell apart a little more,
All alone,
With people all around,
And nobody saw the pain that shown through her eyes,
Even though it came across so clear,
At the start of every smile,
Her eyes began to water,
And no one had a clue,
How lost she truly was,
Or how bad she really felt,
How every night she laid awake,
Thinking to herself about the past that haunted her,
And no one ever woke her up.