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the problem with
being a poet in love,
is that you savour
& trust each word your lover has
without  question.

we are simply in love
with bare literature,
spoken from the lips of someone we hold
in higher regard
than ourselves sometimes.

when you love a poet
each word you utter,
should be a piece of artwork

each sentence,
a highly thought out structure of awe and beauty to leave us seeping
in the warmth of your voice
caressing such fine words

so when deciding that you love someone,
who writes or reads
fill their souls with beauty, memories & truth especially,
for a poet's heart breaks at ease.
thoughts.
Broken conversations,
empty lungs,
doors half open,
hearts almost out of love.

We used to talk of how
we used to be infinite.
But now every second now feels
like a stroke against an unforgiving current.

Our conversations broke
as the flaws of our souls
fell through the cracks of this glass foundation.

These upset words that escaped you
left the air around me a little sad,
a little awake,
and with a lot of echoes.

My lungs went empty
talking you down.

I left the door open for you.
So you can walk in
and slip in quietly-
I won't say a word.

And this heart could never go empty,
not mine.
Yours,
at this point,
I know not.

Flowers never lost their color
as long as you walked this earth.
Only fools rush in
But I don't believe
I don't believe
I could still fall in love with you 

I will love you till I die
And I will love you all the time
So please put your sweet hand in mine
And float in space and drift in time

All the time until I die
We'll float in space, just you and I

All I want in life's
a little bit of love to take the pain away.
                

This song is beautiful and it plays in my head.

It makes me happy.
You think you are nothing,
I think you are not.

I think you are my everything,
You think you are not.

You think you have no one,
I think you have me.

I think you have everyone,
You think you do not.

When will you realize that,
I may not always be right,
But I'm right here
I can't feel the warmth inside my chest,
of a racing heart or rapid breaths
is that bad?

The walls around me are crumbling,
they're letting in all the pain
is that bad?

I can't remember what sunshine feels like,
all I know is blood and darkness
is that bad?

The demons of my past and present,
swarm me like moths to light
is that bad?

My facade of happiness and lies,
is almost see through
is that bad?

I'm one step from oblivion,
and I want to take it  
is that bad?

Please give me an answer
because I can't hold on

**anymore
You
You could never take anything less than perfect
That's why I wondered why you took me

You were the best thing that happened to me
and I'll remember our life for you

The way we met, at a coffee shop, how cliche
but you thought it was cute

First date, first sweat, first suit, first smile,
first laugh, first kiss, first love

We hung out more and even more
met your parents, and you mine

The beautiful chapel, huge cake. I admit it,
I don't remember much, just you

Happiness settled in like an old friend,
you gave me a present

But then suddenly you were gone.
one day here, the next not

You just left, got up and left me,
with barely anything

The scars are still red, but I've forgiven you
I know you couldn't wait

I'm kneeling on the ground, putting a rose where others lay
you can't imagine how I feel

A ray of sunshine personified in our
wonderful child toddles over

He looks at the odd gray stone in the ground
that's all that's left of you
Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-
Edit: Thank you everyone. It has meant a lot.
i used to cradle her bleach-cracked hands in mine
and decode the stardust resting within her fingerprints
     up until the day that i lost touch with the art of reading braille
     and she stopped slinging tall-tales for me to fetch
and rest the plot-twist at her feet

often in the post-script
i'd find my train of thought highjacked by the sunlight illuminating the rainbow of earth-tones ablaze
in her frizz-ridden curls
as if she'd been washing her hair with the damaged case of beer
she'd gotten for half-price at liqour depot
     she never did quit drinking
          but neither did i

at least we tried

though sometimes
in the middle of the night when nothing was alright
and we'd barely survived another fight
her face would catch my glance
cast aglow by a flood of lava-lamp light
    
     the sea of freckles resting at the crest of her cheeks
     rose lips perma-pursed in half tilt
     her resting heart-rate so high that i could almost see it
          pirouetting within her chest

it was then that i'd love her best
     amidst the ruins of who we were
     just moments before
a love poem, for the girl i can sometimes spot in my reflection.
Sometimes he let his eyes rest on hers, it needn't have been painful,
but it strangely was.
He broke a lifetime of avoiding eye contact to show her.
She was worth overcoming obstacles for.
 Mar 2014 Summer Winchester
chris
if you think about it
every sentence
every page
every novel
you've ever read
is just a combination
of the right words
using the variation
of the 26 letters
put together
to make a fusion of letters
dancing on a page
 Mar 2014 Summer Winchester
chris
why
won't
you
love
me?
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