I want to fall in love with his bad days
His insecurities
Become a best friend to his loneliness, his fears
A partner to his loathing

I want to love him for all he thinks he isn't
So I can prove him wrong and kiss away his hate

I want to fall in love with his tears
His messy hair in the mornings
His grogginess before his cup of coffee
His clumsy and nervous stutters

Everything about him, I want to find myself fawning over
I want to give him my all and love his everything
Because love doesn't pick and choose
It consumes all or it leaves with nothing

If I only choose to love his shimmer in the sunlight
Or his childish smiles and giggles
Then it would be as if I loved a portrait
Our love would only tarnish and fade with time

I will love everything or I will not love at all

The more I observed the photograph
more soul acquired.

Suddenly it seemed to expel air
directly from her lungs:
transpire,
think,
be sad and then
disguise it.

Suddenly she seemed to want to say something,
to take a look at the light — Careful, careful — with a stare.

Lips loose,
defined,
wanting to form a smile that never comes.

Sparkling eyes that pierce the atoms.

Calmed eyes from the ocean.

Eyes of moon and sun that observes everything.

A silence of complicity was present
in the atmosphere of the room.

And she, who knew her as myself,
suddenly it was not just a photograph.

Every stroke of her face
forced me to return more strongly
to that moment
in which I caught the life.

I always
Talk too much.
Laugh too much.
Feel too much.
Hurt too much.

Everyone who met her always
Portrait her image as a
Sturdy one in their heart. But,
In real everyday she is trying
Hard to fix the pieces of
Her broken soul in one.

Today I looked in the mirror,
After writing a few poems.
And I wondered how long I could sit there,
Without starting to hate myself.
But I didn't see myself in the mirror.
I saw a monster.
Hidden in a box.
And if the safe opens,
And the secrets are spilled.
All that's left to see,
Is the self portrait of a monster.

How can I, a source of such exuberant energy, look so startled?
Black, sunken eyes with a wide, gaping mouth that can **** you, but also bring things to life.
Hunched against the wall, I pale in comparison to the pretty polka-dot paint,
just a hard, blank shell covered in dirt, grime, and dust.
Come to me only when time is on the line, with forceful, shaking hands.
to fill my deep, dark void with a surge of passion,
only to abandon me for hours at a time, while I exert all my energy just to bring you joy.
I hum and buzz until you rip away my nutrients until I’m ****** and drained,
with my surprised expression returning to one of electrifying horror.
But still, I’m the lucky one to give you a glowing light, always full, to destroy the darkness.
I’m not one that gets lost in dusty shadows that might never be found,
who sits in silence, with that shocked face, waiting to find out his powerful purpose.

The perfect still portait that captures all beauty.

Is it the rising sun as it strokes the oceans creating a beautiful mirage of wonder?

Is it the night light sky where the moon and stars remain out of reach with the lone dancing star few see?

Is it the moment of two joining in love and putting the bands of eternity upon their finger?

None of these are the perfect still portait.

The perfect still portrait is the moment in time not captured by lense but by sight and mind.

The perfect still portrait is a feeling and memory at once that can never be described or forgotten.

My perfect still portrait is the moment you said you love me.

Hidden in your eyes
the only portrait of mine
Wish I could see it once
through my eyes
which were yours earlier!