when you understand my poems perfectly then,
their utility is inutile,
their usefulness is, will. always be, in the
reinterpretation, a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct,
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
a two lives (yours, mine) paired wine tasting, we together believing
in the greatness of joyous frustration
some say, as I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our at last armed embrace,
when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...
it’s a beautiful thing
that we can never be perfect
maybe in fact, there is bliss found
in the idea that there is no limit to
being more of something we want
or less of something we don’t
maybe humans arrived
with the purpose to be
so that as we grow our awareness
to the expansiveness of our souls
we quietly choose qualities
we want to be more or less of
throughout all of our lives
to be more compassionate
to be less ******* ourselves
i mean look at us
already carrying so much
so much worthiness and beauty
but still always wanting to be more
and i don’t think it will ever stop
i don’t think there is a limit
to what we can ever be
so in a sense,
in our current now state
we may feel imperfect
as we think of all we hope to be
and know we aren’t quite there yet
but isn’t knowing
there is more to see
more to grow
more to know
what we came here for?
In the clutches of envy, or judgement, or denial
With eyes turned outward at another life
Don’t hide when the inkwell turns up dry
But accept the death which comes to life
And lets you pass by this windowed world
Fly into the perfectly natural
You should look up E.E. Cummings on how Dying Is Fine
One day you come across a guy so amazing--
So amazing you think he's the one
and you create this image in your head
of how perfectly his arms would wrap around you,
how his kisses will always be cherished,
how his eyes and his husky voice
will always leave you
wanting for more
then, suddenly, you realise
at twelve-thirty-eight a.m.,
that if he wanted you;
he would have his arms wrapped around you,
he would always cherish your kisses,
your eyes and angelic voice
will always leave him
wanting for more
but it doesn't happen.
and you finally realise to yourself--
that if he wanted you,
I mean, if he really wanted you
you'll both have your arms wrapped around each other
you'll both cherish each other's kisses like no other
you'll both get drowned in each others eyes
but you don't.
And it hits you.
Maybe, it was your imagination all along.
It was only you imagining all along.
After all, maybe he isn't the one for you.
you may hate the truth about this life.
you may hate the fact about the path that you had already thrown.
you may hate the feelings about the feels that you had already expressed.
this world literally has nothing.
has nothing nonetheless you.
you just can’t accept what had already occurred.
you just can’t take it sincerely.
this world changes every millisecond.
you just can't beat it.
the world literally ignores you.
you are the failure for a particular person.
you are the only one who can fill your voidness.
you are the one who can bring influentialness to another person.
before another person did it to you, worse and shameful.
humans are exactly imperfect.
but again, depends on what you did to your life, take yours wisely.
humans deserve to be happy in their own ways,
their life might be not happy to face the "ways" they take.
time does matter to use it perfectly.
I come home alone yet again.
I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.
That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.
Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.
Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.
I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.
But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.
I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.
I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.
don't fret about **** you can't change
it will only tear you apart
you are who you are for a reason
perfectly imperfect from the start
you don't have to change for anyone
i am a survivor from the cursed war of love
from every simple like to every simple crush
from all these stupid feelings from all these so called
winnings to lost in a river of confused feelings
misunderstood, misunderstand, misshapen, wrong
taken, problem making. life was perfectly complicated
without the war of love