your body will sting when you remember his hands
and you'll start contaminating your skin with the touch of strangers hoping all remnants left of his finger-tips fade away
self-love sounds like a foreign language since he walked away
but loving yourself is a process, long overdue
his name is not a synonym for contentment
I know there is a longing deep within your bones and it feels as though he's the only person who could satisfy it
this is your body whispering that it is time to love it back
you are allowed to lay down your weapons and give up the war with yourself

Im lonely
But
The wind has come to comfort me
Perhaps not in
"reality"
Or whatever you people to tell me to snap back to
But i'm glad I don't feel alone.

I can watch the pretty girls' funny shows on Netflix all night
Who's words weren't written with them in mind
Or any mind for that matter
Or who's shows aren't even "theirs"

Hopefully my puffs of bright beaming teeth breath
Fuel these winds onward
To someone else with worse problems
Or better
So be it

Life never seems quite so bad when I’m holding your hand.
Only major chords ring from the strings that hold my heart
with a melody somewhere along the lines of I hope we’re never apart,
a carefully constructed piece of coming of age bildungsroman art.

Before you I was perfectly content with being a one man band.
You threw me into a new key and helped me find a comfort within myself -
a sort of lovers arrogance, because I found the perfect girl and nobody else comes close.
I don’t need drugs because every moment with you is already ecstasy.
An hour with you is a minute without,
and when we’re together the world runs in double speed yet I’m unaware of it being there.
Because you are my world and there’s nothing I’d change
Just the love of my life and maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to call you my wife.

every human grows up searching for one thing:
happiness
but not just that
no.
contentment.
that is what we all want in the world.
just to feel like the world makes sense,
for once.

Standing and walking, staring and stopping.
An inkling of thought consumes my mind.

A stare was shared, a kindness shown.
Hiding her smile, innocent attraction.
A vibrant strangers' dyad grown.
Eyes darting around, seeking reflection.

A gaze met, but a book read.
Uninvited regret - not, a word let

A final pass by near the corner passed
I look a final time, this won't be the last.

A sorrow by virtue of lonely
The forecast exclaims "cleared be the skies!"
Sadness exists in name only.
Painful wisdom opens eyes.

It is not about the I, but the us that is we.
See through ego of self and set I free.

They may feel as I or not as such at all.
Open our hearts so we may feather down any fall.
My limiting factor, that, is my thinking; I fear.
Submit to the gifts, to wherever they veer.

Sing the song, so happily they may dance.
Stand not still during the funny happenstance.

A long and lonesome wait.
The waiting for the dance of two.
An entwined fate, infinitely distanced.
To stand-up is to desire for dance.

I know who, the daemon, the dancer.
The moving words, a monologue.
Heard songs a reminder of silence.
The rhythm plays out of tune.

The sound, no longer flat.
Yet the ears are presumed deaf.
The pitch transcendental.
My garden over the hill.

A pain let and a cry felt.
The responsibility of insignificance.
Walled green, suffers and broods.
Flowers, just are.