I feel like the faded part of love;
it feels like the end even before it had a chance to begin.

I feel like the faded part of love;
An invisible longing from a lover,
unsettling and echoing in the dark.
A conastantaneous pain that slowly crawls into my body and engulfs the soul that seeks freedom from all the humanly attachments.

I feel like the faded part of love!
I feel like the faded part of love!

calling out your name in the dark
It's become an excruciating custom now
An unquenchable thirst

daylight stings and moon hovers
dispassionately
over my head
heavy with laments over a fallen crest;

Still I imagine
still I dream
that you'll tune my painful screams
into a hushing lullaby,
with a promise of forever
you'd gift my gloomy tears a twinkling gleam;

But now I'm wearing this blindfold
refusing to see the light outshining this pathetic hope ;

You are not here yet,
Maybe you never will be,

But I'm not ready to move from you yet,
And I doubt that I'll ever will be free

From these painful lumps,
burning eyes
swollen throat
and prickled heart
emptying it's blood,
so slowly that years go by
And I can now feel the quitting of daylight
while my blindfold lets out a long sigh;
as if stating to end
this idiotic nonsense
of tucking heartbreak and love
under these lyrical verse;

I'm frozen,
And I can see your spirit fade away
The liveliest shimmers of all I've seen,
And I can't do anything;

My heart burning,
Trying to melt my surrounding ice
giving a last try
to catch your glimmers,

Then it gave up
Because it apprehended to be late,
So struggle breathed out;

Then I don't know how long I slept
Maybe hoping to see you in my dreams,

Where we'll go to that street
where we always wanted to be
My rosy flush and your musing gaze
As the wind swept past the starry horizon
with the sparks of pure amaze;

The sweet scent of that blossoming love
I still remember
I watched it go away with my heart surrendered;

Now,
I'm an icy embody;

Witnessing only the passing times,
without hope;

Who could've thought that not getting over means
there's no hope?

Not that I see miles away;
Even if I try to
These icy flakes blocking my way,
I'm too cold to be resurrected now;

I always imagined
I'm on the beach,
watching the waves roll in from your long hair booth,
seagulls flying on a sailing ship,
o it flies between the two of us
who are running around
looking for *****
on the shore
which turns out
to be close to the beach.
My lips,
so salty sweat
and sea water add happiness there.
I saw the sun rising
and setting in our e y e s,
which turned out to be a s i g n,
I needed to learn
to love the lost dusk
and also the dawn that came.
I saw the fishermen
who came
                   and then left
and that was my
h e   art
that was anchored in the old wharf which turned out to be quiet and
l               one            ly,
and was your  h   e   art  there too?
I always imagined
we forget names,
forget places,
but don't forget to go home.
Or perhaps, this is another option.
I always imagined
we were in a house in a cool village, where the rice fields were green and wide,
so vast that our l  ove was never measured.
The chirping of birds will always be heard
and answered so s w e e t l y
from tree branches
whose leaves are thick and shady; every time you
                            and
                                    I wake up.
From the windows and ventilation aisles,
sunlight e n t e r s to warm our cold bodies shivering all night
because of the
r
               a
                                i
   n
and      
         s     t    o   r   m   s
that never subside,
even though we have spent the night with various kinds of hugs
that are not the same.
Even I always imagined
you are there
when I imagined good things,
maybe when you are not by my side and I feel it is not something that feels good.
I always imagined
that I really love you.
And you really love me too.

O, I always imagined it all
when I see you smile every time
I have a bad day, and you said, everything
      must
         be
           easy
             for
              you
               to
                 go
                   through.

I imagined that, while writing this poem.

pre-date jitters
perfect posture
pick me up at eight

social scrolls
late-night strolls
forehead kisses
mr. and mrs.

couch cuddles
midnight movie
head on shoulder
kiss on cheek

forget me not
forget me never
i am yours
forever and ever

*

Fingers trembling; lips dry
Make-up reapplied seven times
Back straight; ****, he’s late
Smooth your dress, try not to stress

Timeline trailing; a tagging trend
Neither wants to see the end
Hand in hand, the stars above
He points out which she reminds him of

Back at home, when they’re alone
A kiss on the head, she’s ready for bed
But with ring in hand, he asks for a band

Kids asleep, eating leftover Peeps
Mundane Mondays come only once a week
Television sounds softly; lights are down low
Her head on his shoulder, his kiss on her brow

Mini blue flowers
A reminder of their vows
To grow old together, and forever they shall

It was a Thursday when the doctor
gave news of the small child’s birth.

She was the first girl,
the entire light
in her mother’s new world.

Daughter of the mayor,
her name would
turn up in the local paper.
Letters would be written as
townspeople learned of the labor.

It was early in the summer,
birds pecked the dirt,
looking for worms.

The nurse was late for work,
as she was a helper
at the local church.

Times would eventually turn,
but for now, little Pearl
was like a dam waiting to burst.

The curl of her lips
showed her mood was firm.
She was a wave
that would soon be heard.

Quickly, she began to stir,
her eyes starting to blur.
Her mother worried,
feared the worst,
but all Pearl wanted
was someone to
nourish her thirst.

Years later, Pearl would sit,
searching a diner
while summer went quick.

Who was a tourist,
who did she know?

She was dressed
in a purple shirt,
and glamour radiated
down to her toes.

It was the third time
the waiter returned,
this time with Pearl’s dinner,
and the courage to earn
her number while the sun
slowly burned.

She drew circles in her journal,
finding peace among the curves,
and encouraged the boy
in thirteen little words.

The next week, she offered
him her hand,
and below the evening sun,
a new journey they began.

So, it starts when he sends you a meme to start a conversation
Wow, what a weird yet clever way of communication
The meme was funny yet not funny, difficult for interpretation
Anyways, you send an emoji to keep up with the situation...
Then , he comments on your picture showing little admiration
You comment a smiley back, maybe a little persuasion??!
He views your IG story, to your grammar, he replies some correction
Then begins " hey, you kinda cute" , a little flirtation
Well, you reply back , with a little hesitation?!?
Then begins the daily WYD , HYD exaggeration.
The talks become fun with matched perception
Sure, he did his little stalking investigation
Then you stalk him back, with mere observation
He seems decent, maybe you could take him into consideration
The chat goes on for awhile, then you get a date invitation
First you make him work for you, even though you've got rush of excitation
Finally you agree to meet him, he already made the reservation
The day of the date came, called your friends for a little motivation
Then you met him, he was just like the one in your imagination
Talked a little, laughed a little, held hands too. He took the initiation...
Returned back with a glad face, was thinking of him, then your phone buzzed with a notification
" I had a great time with you. We should meet again!" , the ditto exclamation.
Started talking everyday, met regularly, was the beginning of a beautiful creation.
His lips were soft, he smelled so good, oh what a sensation!
Vibes matched , energies matched , what a transformation!
This could be her " happily ever after" Congratulations!