Smoothly blossoming
Images you dreamt about
Now discover new meaning
Delving into symbols
Within the recesses
Chariots towering cathedrals
Spiralling atop the citadel
For colossal mountains
To emerge out the slumbers
Which had captivated
Drifting into languor
Feasting upon grandeur
Eating away at your desires
Required a wake up call
Dreaming and forgetting
Remembering then neglecting
Embracing because important
The flowers which had inspired
Had budded couched requirements
To brave the fallow time
As the land prepares for summer
When the gardeners rejoice
Having kept calmly entwined
With the overgrown and rotting
For something magnificent

To serendipity I yearn,
Yet my soul holds no clue.
The fires of self-indulgence burn,
Unyielding to another's woo.

But life without ambition feels tedious,
The longing for love grows more obvious.

My monotonous days now find cessation,
As my heart seeks leisure, a new elation.

you can pour it out unrefined.
i can hold it for you,
the mess made by your love,
one i verbosely write about,
but, never truly understand.

darling, we can just figure it out,
as we go places and stay
within each other's hold.
for better or for worst,
i am your willing capable mold.

I want to be held, just once, deeply. Wrapped tight in arms that feel careful and sure, holding me like something precious. I need the weight of someone’s warmth anchoring me, grounding my soul against the pull of empty rooms and silent nights. Shadows have learned my name; they call to me, and I need a voice to answer them, someone to whisper back to me, comforting me as I spill out my dreams, my lost hopes. To trace the lines left by my fears, to smooth the scars hidden under my skin. To be held by comfort itself, stitching up the wounds, letting healing come slow. Someone who’ll listen as I release the secrets buried so deep they’ve become part of me. I want to be held, just once, close enough to drown the silence in the sound of your heartbeat.

I want
the postcards,
travel plans,
the touch,
words of affirmation.
And I want you to
hold me while singing out loud at the concerts,
pull me close while kissing,
hold my hands in the silence,
sit by my side while sulking.

After a while they tell us.
We're being held at a signal.
But being held doesn’t feel like this.
When I'm held
I feel warmth.
I feel connection.

Here I feel placed on hold.
I feel a coldness, distance.

I'll wait for a fresh signal.