I'm writing about you again
My strange stranger

You visit me in my dreams
but I can't see your face

You have such strong arms
To wrap around me
They comfort and protect

You are at least a head taller than me
Enough so to rest your chin on my head

There is warmth and trust, so much trust
I curl into you

You are my best friend and partner
Doubt never creeps
I can't explain it

You smell of clean laundry and something familiar
You say I smell like vanilla

As you run your fingers through my hair
You stare with loving eyes.
They are never the same color.
Sometimes a blue so deep I could swim in them
sometimes a green so vibrant I can't help but stare

Your hair never stays the same either.
Sometimes its dark, sometimes its blonde
But always so thick and soft

I yearn for you
My heart aches
So much so that I want to cry

I wish you were in my life already
But one minute I'm ready and another I'm not
I'm sorry if I keep you waiting,
But please know, I'm on my way
And I hope you are too
Please be patient and wait,
Wait for me...

I hope that your heart doesn't belong to another
But if it does, It can only lead you to me,
A better person than before.
Mine is still new and I can't wait to give it you
And I hope you are the only one I give it to.

His rapidly regressing memory
Often leaves his mind
In a state
of utter shambles
While the ceaseless pain
in his arthiritic joints
Hardly alleviates
For more than a couple of hours
Even after ingesting
The strongest painkillers
His hollow bones
Continuously reverberate
with a crackling ache
That frequently disturbs
The meagre hours
Of his peaceful repose
And the flavourless diet
Decreed by his physicians
Warranted to keep
the increasingly fragile resilience
Of his mellow heart intact
Will undoubtedly
douse your desires
For any gastronomical adventures
As well as annihilate
your hearty appetite
Just by its vapid smell
Yet
The cheerful smile
On his eighty year old
Sagged deflated
And wrinkled beyond recognition face
Refuses to fade
Even by a single dismal shade
Cause he knows
That as long as he is able to breathe
Theres no reason at all
To believe
That the fleeting moments
Of his terribly unpredictable life
Cannot be spent
Happily

When you emptied yourself inside because things outside made you cried.
When your sacred self startled shattered to stutter without flutter.

When no one hear this mumble yet fumble and tumbled to hear me as troubled, but why instead themselves wanting to become more humble.

Who is everyone that added anything and everything to my voice;  screaming stopped, yet heartbeat ignition, and grumbling papers with and without written symbolism.  

I needed you to be here with the gem of treasure and filled with muse of your soothe and yet I waited to hear your amused with joy and listened to this delighted sadness of how really isn’t something to be amused or nor abused.

Wanting to wait for the return of the u-turns, so I became emblems of I said I’m sorry but it was actually an reoccur of it not being the chance to say that was my own turn.

Tears, aches, and screams didn’t swivel, its shriveled.
Yet, the eyes of the stars dreamt of awakening beaming bright, and if so it's beneath dimming the lower lights.

Dear friends many of you have moved
from surroundings I knew and loved with you
but my memories of us have not defused
like clouds hanging dark but always new.

In old age it is the memories that flow
and make you present with hearts beating wildly
times we drank beer decrying the status quo
and when we celebrated little things like being Friday.

We celebrated a lot when life was so full
alive with discoveries, conflicts, and diversity
when our desires and thoughts pushed and pulled
and we felt pain and hope in multiplicity.

But now so many of you are gone
to places unknown: some to you and some to me
and together we won’t know joys of new dawns
we will deal with things like that **** aching knee.

For some of you your children are grown
for me poetry, love, and God enliven and wake me up
but nobody can take from me the bonds I have known
bonds cast with you in sharing, caring, and lifting life’s cup.

In long moments in a waiting room
trying to ignore the next challenge of my body
I’ll be grateful. I’ll not dwell in spaces of doom
I’ll remember those times of being good or naughty.

I’ll visit the rooms and the halls
where we gathered to learn and teach
in those precious moments of my recall
I’ll gather you together for the universes we’ve yet to reach.

Written 6-30-18

I thought it's true,
All the things I knew.
The words that came from you.
What a trouble I put myself into.

How do you tell a person who is so used to being left, that they are blessed with the ability to love in full capacity?
How do I tell myself that I am so much more than my thoughts?
You see, my mind is a waiting room. And it starts out as follows,
I am seated against a wall watching the door as it opens, one person at a time entering and taking a seat. Slowly the room begins to crowd and they’re all talking over each other and it’s so hard trying to figure out who is saying what and for what reason because it quickly shifts into a fight and the noise just becomes deafening and I want it to end. I want it to end so badly but I’m a coward and I can’t seem to stop the thoughts from tearing me apart. I’m a paper airplane and the pouring rain drowns me. And no one can tell how this sadness is tearing me apart. No one can see how I’m in constant pain, no one knows that I’m unable to fall asleep but to the sound of her voice and I’m drowning and I don’t think anyone’s capable of savings me.
Just leave.
I get it.
Don’t explain.
I’ll save myself if I don’t take it first.