13 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I wrote many of my poems in Braille for the kind of love I was desperately longing to feel.
I’m still catching feelings; my words are revealing and that’s why you’ll know that this poem is about you.
Let me tell you about my version of events while we listen to Emeli Sandé on any given Sunday.
For what it’s worth, I was only trying to make things work, but I got high on love during my hiatus.
I’ve had to learn to love you in silence and as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve had to learn to love you from a distance.
I know you didn’t give me permission to, but I already started talking to God about you.
Maybe in your quiet time at exactly the right time, I could possibly be your one and only valentine.
I think I finally understand it now, I’m a hopeless romantic who insists on remaining hopeful.
Let me tell you about my version of events while we listen to Emeli Sandé on any given Sunday.

9 | 31 Poems for August 2017

When my blue skies have turned grey, I listen to that one Emeli Sandé song and reminisce about you every single day.
The moment you opened your eyes, I was right there by your side and my love for you comes as no surprise.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.
I hope you’ve found a way to finally stop smoking cigarettes and drinking ***** like there’s a message in the bottle.
Love, I wish you’d be more open about your feelings because bottling everything in is detrimental.
I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
I still miss the sweet scent of your presence on the white duvet covers and cotton sheets of my memory.
Love is blind and that I already know, but I had never pictured writing these words without you.
Maybe you were right when you said that my love is as bad as my handwriting is – maybe I should’ve seen it coming.
Your aura always took me to peaceful picturesque places that I had only seen in my dreams.
I still want to hold your heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.