Today i got some papers written  by you for me,
In reply of my limitless feelings,
Most of the replies are not about the questions i asked ,
Your most of writings about your frustrations & problems from me in vast ,
Every new letter got nothing new to read,
Even when I expressed every phase of me,
In the starting of our relationship,
You accepted all but already putted a limitation,
But i still believed in you ,
& what i got in response that am not loving you through,
With your expectations,
Our conversations depicted a theory,
That i was living in the feel of primitive real love story,
In which a boy& girl loved each other,
From the soul and spent their life together ,
Less calls less communication,
When i asked the reason,
Your response forced me to realise,
I was not there from any corner or in any size,
Bundles of word I wrote & hardly heard any appreciation,
Likewise before me my fellows sensed,
You lost interest in me like the previous guy who caught and banned,
Just because he opted another girl also,
Alongside to support you from head to toe,
When my eyes opened & i understood the circumstances,
I asked you that we're gonna apart,
But **** it was done your side & heart,
Okay on valentines day the breakup it was,
Ink letters freshed up the eighteen months experience again ,
Let's close it until i open my inner locker to get ur maintain

It finally occurred to me
that some spaces
have the ability
to be mean
- brutal, even.
Like the spaces
resting
between our lips.
Like the spaces
occupied
by oceans
and countries
and pure **** air
that limit us
from fitting
our hands
together.

There was a sitting cow on a prairie and a small **** came flying who resembled a martini glass that resembled a train, but if you sneeze the whole thing might fall and become an egg sandwich.

Love
is a beauteous thing
It overcomes evil
It forgives all sin

Man
cleaves to women
together
they embrace the end

Death
is an open door
step within
for truth and more

Time
is a fickle thing
it will run out
while your still standing

Love
is a beauteous thing
It destroys all evil
it cleans all sin

And love
I say again
overcomes all
there at the end

it was a hundred miles away
from my thoughts to your soul
it was as cold as december
where should i possibly
go?
if
it's
a dream
or a fantasy
or could it be
real?

i
tried
to
wake up
on my own feet
but
i
feel so heavy
my mind
is as blank
as a paper
without
written back from your
thoughts.
It is kind of a mess, sometimes.
it doesn't follow
patterns nor rules to crash.
i was hoping
till late at night
that you'll remember me
perhaps,
will
you
think
of
me?

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