There was a time when I didn't know you.
It seems absurd to me now, really.
When I didn't smell your almond hair at dawn,
When I didn't look into your chocolate eyes nearly.

There was a time when I lived without you.
When I tore myself to pieces with no mean.
When I was alone at all and didn't imagined
That you're my fate, my part. You're foreseen.

I tried to cheat my fate more than once,
I teased her much. I was rude to her very.
And she saved me tenderly every time.
She awaited the while I was stubborned daringly.

There was a time when I didn't know you.
Maybe it was in my past life.
And now you're here, you're nearby.
And all my past disappeared without any strife.

"I learned that he loved me."
                                                            ­     "How did you figure that out?"

"I asked him what color my eyes are,
after looking away."


                                                        ­         "That's easy. He should know."
                                                                                          "They're brown."
"That's not what he answered."

                                                     ­             "What else would he answer?"

"He said that my eyes are
dark blue on the outside,
with hazel that followed
the pure brown centered
in the midst of all the colors.
Everyone else would've taken
a quick glance and seen brown,
but he catalogued every detail
perfectly within his memory!"

                                                       ­                            "That's so romantic!"

"I know! My heart skipped a beat
when he described my eyes.
Then he said something about
the different layers of hues being
like the rings of the solar system
and how I'm his eternal sunshine
and that he revolves around me
like some sort of lovestruck planet
and then he used some words
that I didn't quite understand,
but I understood how he was
making me feel, and I felt loved!

                                                             "So, you didn't really understand
                                                                       what he was trying to say?"

"No, but he was really cute!
Then he told me that he's a poet.
And I was like, "Who can't resist that?"

I was searching for love! I was searching for long
In eyes, looking keenly at me,
In hands, touching upon me subtly,
In words, which were a trap foresee.

I was searching for rescue painfully long time
In those others and in yourself at all.
I pinned faith on all blindly and silly
That all of you were meant for me whole.

I was searching for the truth entirely honestly
In them, in you and in myself again.
And while I was searching for, I realized, that
The truth is there, where the calmness reins.

I handed myself at the mercy of the Night.
There's no fear and there's no shame.
I'll finish my useless searches here.
The Night is the calmness! This is proclaimed!

I've believed myself a sane man,
One aware of his every action and contradiction.
And I must confess my greatest crime

Being that I still love you.

A shameful truth I can't help but
Want to whisper to you.
Even now.
Even as you've deliberately tried to tear it away,
Abandon it to be left in the cold,
All while looking me in my eyes.

Except now, your eyes don’t hold the softness
You once promised belonged only to me.
Yet I see through your cold expression.
I see your lips quivering.
I know that you, too, suffer.
But I desire that you give in to it.
I beg of you to suffer.
Suffer with me.
Open your wounds to me.

But rather than choosing to succumb,
You refute.
You’ve chosen to plunge your hands
Deep into the most vulnerable parts of me,
The parts I promised were yours.
And yet, I still let you.
I want you to.
And I am a fool.

I hate that I am in servitude of you.
I hate that even through the images
I see of you,
Your skin against that of another man,
I still find inside me
A desire for you.
One now lined in hate.

A hate of what has become of you.
Of us.
But not you.

It pains me to see how easily
You summoned the will
To so casually give away what you cherished for us.
Not just your body,
But your heart.
And all for what seems to be
A desperate attempt to ignore your suffering.

A suffering I share.
One I bore.
And still do.

Enough to let me want
To keep staring into your empty eyes,
Looking for what used to be there.
What I know is there.
And I search, knowing that even when I find it,
I’ll refuse to return to you.

Because even if those fragments I touched remain,
They've been tainted.
They've been stepped on.
Destroyed.
And you chose to.

My words may seem cruel,
But all these words—
They are the words of an unrequited heart,
Arising from a man who still loves you.
Not the woman standing before him,
But the woman she was.

A woman who served as a bower,
Bringing a beauty I couldn't comprehend
Down to me.
Tangible.
Able to be felt.
Even if she couldn't herself.

And know this.
Even through your active attempts to hurt me,
I cannot lie but admit
You have forever saved a place in me.

And I'll live through it.
For you have enriched my life
Beyond a manner these words can conceive of expressing.
Only through my foolish attempts,
My suffering,
My willingness to still bleed for you,
Can I hope you at least understand
A fraction of what you have become to me.

So please—
If you must,
Hurt me.
One last time.

And when you cut my flesh,
Take as much away from me as you can.
Ensure the scar left behind will always draw my gaze.
Ensure that this part of me remains yours before you leave.

And I hope, through it,
You may understand
Who this girl I loved.
I still love
Was.

Why she was worth my suffering.
My tears.
My flesh.
My words.
My joy.
My future.
My kids.
My life.
My heart.

And in time’s passing,
A part of it
Will still call for you.

eyes
the window to your soul
such gorgeous objects
that hold onto my heart

the beautiful deep abyss of darkness eyes
the enchanting sea blue of the clear sky eyes
the gorgeous forest green of nature-loving eyes
the captivating honey-colored sunshine eyes
the stunning earth-toned life-breathing eyes

all eyes are beautiful to me
no matter the color

they are windows into a soul,
many a time it has been adaged—
through the variety of moments,
transversing the fabric of space,
as they witness evolution’s progression,
impressing upon the hippocampus;
creating memories delving deep,
deeper, further—an obsession with distance,
to hide in one’s essence,
life’s temperamental escalations,
as a soul searches for meaning,
revealing mined, elusive absolute truth.

The pupil of your eye
is like a black hole—
please consume me with your pupil
and make me eternally yours.

Yes, I know
even black holes evaporate.
But fear not,
for I will evaporate with you,
into eternity.