i never thought i'd become this but here i am not knowing, just doing. you don't say the things you used to say and i guess that is alright, i guess that is fine, i guess i'm running out of guesses now. my actions are full of consequences and those consequences are full of nothing important will you tell me that the sky is the limit, you're eyes are the limit with limitless depth. you said that one day everything would be okay. you ******* promised me that you would never stop calling me beautiful, but now you don't disagree when i say that i feel like a ***. what do you think i do? i can't do anything but pretend like i never loved you. what can i do if it's not being deprived of sleep you being the thought that fills my brain god it hurts. your eyes matched my name and we were meant to be together but nothing goes as planned.

they were pretty, but they didn't have your eyes or your gentle kindness.

You weaved a blanket that kept my heart warm,
it was a comfort on those days when you were
at work and I was home.

I cuddle up on the sofa, and when I think of
me sitting here I feel the warmth of that blanket caress
my thoughts, and I know I'm no longer alone.

i.
i still feel you in those times when i can drain the pain from my veins just long enough to smile, before it rips my skin and crawls its way back into my blood stream.

ii.
you are every poem i have ever written about love in a nutshell. you are so **** pretty. your pretty is a shredder, still ripping me to particles when all i want to do is sleep. forever.

iii.
i'd sing no doubt but you don't speak anyway. if i disregarded that though, would you see the irony? would you see that what i mean is i love you, i love you, i freaking love you, and i'm sorry i didn't try hard enough.

iv.
i still think you weave words like blankets for newborn angels. even when the blanket is wool, and it's itchy, and god babe, was that last poem about me? because if so, i want to ask if i'm a baby angel or if i'm just one or the other, a baby or an angel. because right now i don't feel like either, i just feel lost.

v.
you make me sick.

vi.
not because i don't love you.

vii.
i'd prefer you burn me with words instead of whipping my already scarred heart with silence. now my wings are falling off and i am falling apart with them. the cloud i'm floating on is pitch black and its on a pathway to something horrible.

viii.
i define fragility with silent sobs in the back of my throat. my wrists still throb even though for almost a year, i've been totally clean. the amount time i've been clean is coincidentally very close to coinciding with the amount of time i've known you, and i don't know if ever knew you because i never thought you'd just go like this.

ix.
i left for you. almost everything i do is for you- why don't you understand?

x.
i'm still not ready to say goodbye so the change in the weather tries to do it for me. it says that a new season means a new life, and since i didn't know how to live without you in the old one, maybe now i can learn to live without you in this new one.

xi.
this is almost a goodbye. one day, maybe it will be.

i was drowning in your galaxies of blue.
blue so pale- like your    e   y   e  s
when i swore i could feel them on me but
you weren't there.
i was drowning in your galaxies
in which the stars would shine
shine bright / bright light / bright white light / pale bright white light-
not like printer paper in the sun
more like the pigment of your skin
in the moonlight.

i didn't mind. drowning didn't seem
so bad.
because even though i felt awful and sad, i
also felt loved,
and that was so very pretty to me
as a poet. as a lonely star amidst
constellations.

you almost said the "l" word
a total of (probably) seven times in the five
long-short months that
we were almost lovers.
i actually said the "l" word
a total of five times.
twice as a half joke, hoping you'd pick up
where i slacked in clarity but never
in sincerity
and three times (thrice) in my goodbye
in which i beheld these self-evident truths:

that the almost (always almost) meant
that we could never be lovers
and i thought that i'd prefer us to be nothing to each
other but maybe friends.

(maybe, maybe, maybes make me want to wish on stars
but not the ones in your eyes)

and although time flies
i'm still somehow drowning in your galaxies
of blue.

and i wonder if its killing me
slowly
as your stars blink
and i'm gone
when they open their eyes.
*almost.

I really miss
all those moments.
Those little talks,
beautiful glances,
gentle kisses,
warm hugs
and
every single second
of our
love epoch.
Every day
I'm wrapping myself
in the warmth memories
of our togetherness
sitting on
the sands of time.

© Kishamore

I miss you and my skin shivers
The heaves of the flying engine
The sky of our heavens angel
Amiss and my soul webbed in a bay
As the mist of the dew condenses
The waters flows in our artistry
Our chemistry a fizzle unreactive
Our feeling dances as a spirit of its own
The miss and want to walk my finger
Rest it on your bare hairless chest
The miss to walk and pluck a hair
Resourcefully induce a prickly pain
I miss you and my tear flitters
On the trail of the cave I touch
****** the walls that hang your heart
I miss you as we shield our soul and shell
At the crossroads where the devil turns