Stop looking for me everywhere and let me
please
rest in peace.

the thing about me
is that I crave intimacy.
but I've grown up in this way
of believing that two people can never really connect
when there's fabric between their bodies
so I part my lips,
and I kiss your skin,
desperate to feel like I am part of something.
I listen to our breaths
and feel our bodies synchronize,
reaching out with my mind,
hoping somehow it'll mingle with yours.
But two souls can't connect
when it's just another, "****."
and when I open my eyes,
I allow guilt to settle in
vulnerable and naked,
with remnants of burning fingers on my skin.

It's easy to move on from someone you know,
So why can't it be the same with someone you deeply care about?

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Anemones are white
Sunflowers are yellow
Marigold are orange

This is not a love poem.

I feel like an empty coloring book.  
Just brought out the store, still in the bag
and I require every single crayon in your 64 pack to be filled in.
Completely.
Yet you could never color me properly,  never able to see all of me, I know that all of John’s lyrics were just legends
Cause we would, never have been able to adapt in the environment we were set in.
I promise, we were destined...to fail.
But In this moment, at least try to stay in the lines..
maybe squint your eyes ..  take a closer look at how damaged my pages already are.
I never asked you to be neat...
I only advised, that you at least try to stay in the lines.
But really, who am I?...
Giving advice, but never take mine..  
Living for the moment, when i should take time
I  move fast.. like smooth winds, grooving through the motions but
               I…move too fast
             And I  spread myself too thin.
    Like, weak things & wheat thins, we could never break even.
 
Even when I'm looking for happiness in the same place that I lost it.
     If you weren't gonna color in this book then why you got it ?
            I refuse to be a coloring book kept in the closet
              & I'm tired of being patient, so color me in.
                   Shades of chivalry is not dead yet
                   Of you making my cheeks red and
            Shades of “is the sky black… or blue at night?”
                     Of “my love goes on for light years”
& I'll be loyal like Woody, If you'll be my Buzz Light year.

       Shades of“did you know that violets aren’t really blue?”
                                       Of confusion.
    Color me in shades of understanding, and sympathy.
                                Rose red.
                     And violet. Purple. Not blue.
                           Color me in shades of cliché.
                                       Frame me in calming hues.

after all the talking,
she saw an oportunity
he left a small door open,
it was so tiny, that she almost missed it
so she reach out and touch his soul
just for an instant, it was almost like a dream
like it didnt happen
it was lust and angels
is like you can touch the sky,
and as soon as you get close enough, you fall
but when you fall, you're numb

she could let herself dream, and make you laugh
be gracefull and delicate
she could be smart enough to know when to back off
and then you'll completely fall for her
but she's not that type of girl
the one that waits for a men to writte her a poem
she's the one that writes a poem about him

I realised too late
That I should not have
Tidied us into separate picture frames
When we could
Perhaps
Have shared one between us
Like those other lovers
Who sit together on swings
And giddy themselves
And that I should not have
Scribbled over every thought
And possibility
And guess
I should not have hemmed back
The inch of romance
I once set aside for you
Because the only thing that stopped me
Was fear
You remain my one love story
The sole great un-requited affair
The unspoken words
Between each conversation line
The coffee stains on the pages of my novel
That will forever anticipate a you that is past
And you remain my one love story
You are the love story that I told myself
Was not love
And we were never anything other than silence
And holes in the conversation
Like dropped stitches
When we were twelve
You asked me out via someone else
And I stamped ******* your offered palm
Never stopping to learn
Whether you meant it
And I hope now that you did
Because then it is not so foolish to call you a love affair
And I still do not quite believe that I love you
Only
I saw you today
And my chest
Ceased to be that glacier it chooses to be
Pinned under the lining of every coat
I own
And you said
Hey!
And I hoped I wasn't imaging it
That you were pleased to see me
Because I know that the
Global Warming
Of my world had to be worth something to you
And I have always been something of an
Introvert
And you have always been something of a skateboarder
But you are immortal
In my
Sort-of
Maybe-not
Half-way
Down-trodden
Hold-back
Confused melting
As I paint the pavement
With the contents of my
Ribcage.