And one day...
The ones you thought would
never leave
will slowly step away,
like waves of the ocean
drifting back and forth,
moving further from shore
upon each return.
And you will learn true loneliness,
and that the unspoken promises
are often never kept.
You will learn true solitude,
and that you must enjoy the ride,
even when there's no one in
your passenger seat.

I don’t want you to see me like this.
I don’t want you to see me.
I don’t want you to see.
I don’t want you to.
I don’t want you.
I don’t want.
I don’t.

Nobody else matters.
Nobody else.
Nobody.

You’ve become the
subject in every portrait,
the focus in every picture,
the lines in every poem.
Every song, somehow,
sounds like it’s about you.

I saw you for the first time.
My eyes and my mind agreed on forever.
Well a couple of decades of us being together.
I walked slowly towards you and started to stumble.
Thinking of something smooth to say because you’re a bag I can’t afford to fumble.
If I were honest I’d tell you that you put a lock on my eyes and gave my legs amnesia.
I would treat you like we’re in the 90s and scream “I need ya”.
Or make you an omelette in the morning like I’m Darius and you’re Nina and life is Love Jones.
Normally I don’t get sprung at first sight but right now I’m imagining what our kids would look like with your hair and my complexion.
I imagine you yelling at me for bringing a used dish right after you finish washing.
I’m convinced that you’ll wipe my memory clean, erase the thought of anyone I was with before you.
Butterflies go down into my stomach as I clear my throat.
“Heyy, how are you?” I say.
A man comes and grabs you by the waist from behind as you smile.
“Hey. Can I help you?”
Those words, bullets aiming for the butterflies, shot dead and I feel the need to find a place to bury them.
“Uhm, yes. Where’s the bathroom?”

I want you but I don't want all of you.
I like you but I don't like all of you.
Your flaws; I want to embrace them but they are what I will fail to see.
I would put a canvas on the wall and paint you with only colours that appeal to me.
Unless you give me an opportunity to peal off the layers of your personality.
Discover your depth.
Get to know you from the outside in.
I'm always curious to find out how deep the deep end is.
Now this curiosity has me drowning in water I never learned how to swim in. But you could save me.
You could push me back to the shallow end or
you could teach me how to swim in the waters of you.
You could dismiss me as a stranger or...
You could teach me about what makes you you.

Arms, open but never held.
Hearts, stolen and mistreated.
Poems, written but never read.
Secrets, uncovered but never shared.
Words: thought of but never spoken.
Actions: examined but never taken.
Opportunities, recognized but never exploited.
Love.
Discovered but never explored.

I've been searching...
Searching for the feeling that makes me feel alive and on top of the world.
It could be burning and I wouldn't notice as I watch the sun set with you.
Thinking that as long as we have this love we're set for eternity.
An escape from pain and agony.
Is it temporary?
Is it permanent?
We'll never know.
Words are accusations, only
actions serve as proof.
Our hearts are deceitful and
only time tells tales of truth.

Anita is a soulful person.
An optimist, Opulent in the currency of happiness.
They say when you're in love, it shows in every aspect of your being.
A beam shines from your eyes.
In your partner's presence; it seems that joy is the only emotion you're capable of showing.
Your partner: a recurring reason for this feeling.
A smile: the only expression your lips could care to make.

Everyday, Anita would start conversations and exchange stories with random strangers. The stories accumulated until the day's end,
all for the last pair of ears to hear:
Alex's.

The choice to place your heart in the hands of another is a potential form of self-destruction.
An appeal to our desire to be desired... It makes our emotions fluctuate.
Our sense of importance rises while our sensual pleasures are satisfied.
Love can be quite exquisite.
The perfect mistake is to fall into hands that are not only capable of catching you, but also
holding you down after you jump off the cliff of solitude.

We're playing games but the rulebook is missing.
Like the responses to the texts that I'm sending.
Or worse, replying just for replying's sake.
I don't know how much I can take anymore.
I'd rather deal with ignorance that disinterest.
Its a pity that we have to watch our relationship disintegrate until it's only a fraction of the love we felt, left in our hearts.

From strangers, to lovers, back to strangers.
We have a lot of energy.
We drive each other crazy and we run around in circles.
Head over heels, in each other's minds is where we reside.
Sometimes I wish I could toss my emotions aside.
I've been here before, it feels like a phase.
Love is a game and our feelings are a maze.
Just when I think I  have you figured out, you pull a trick from your sleeve and leave me amazed.
Convince me that I  could have the whole cake.
Then you take it away after my first taste.

Somebody told me that real love ages like fine wine.
This must be infatuation so we might as well just stop trying.

A pill: Hard to swallow.
A bullet: Short and narrow.
Shot by my brain in aim for your chest.
I promised to let it all out but my conscience chose to borrow only a part of it to my lips.
To spare you from being broken apart by my harsh honesty.
I was told that silence is the remedy when truth entails pain.
After you hear it; we won't be the same.
Oh, the truth.
It's bad enough that I don't tell it to you but what's even worse is that I refuse to tell it to myself.