"I Love You, my darling.. before I sleep, I'll trade whispers with the sky, and tell the moon all about you.."

Of all the anger
and hurt and pain
I am left with
Nothing but a mere memory
Nothing but two bare bodies
lost deep in understanding
each other's pieces
and muffled laughter and
glee kept hidden
as to not overthink
each carress
and fond eyes looking back
and trembling hands
touching so soft
barely there

She was good at goodbyes
And he was bad at them.
Together they were one collision away from pain.
And yet somehow when his need met hers.
There was calm inside the chaos.
He was patience incarnate.
She was unconditional love.
The two, a connection so deep.
A feeling in their souls.
That this wasn't meant to be goodbye.
But a hello that never got old.

paulSN

Don't speak directly to her--
you will melt the skin  off
  her bone-frame

Instead, find the parallel-words--

ones that will float alongside her
as she walks, so as she is able-
she can pluck them--  like
wild roses along the highway

Sometimes, love takes a
   tremendous
amount of creativity--

the name of the game is
  its destination
not the control of its path

I will heat the soup
you forgot to drink

After I kiss the space
between your eyebrows

It makes my heart beat fast fast fast
When you say you love me, more open than you've ever been before,
And i know it's because i let you take my heart with you and trusted you not to break it,
It's soft isn't it ? makes you melt,
Lets you know that love is a gift i gave you
And you give me too,
And my heart,
It does love you.

I realized something.
Tenderness gets you nowhere in the face of apathy.
Apathy is ruling us.
It is ruling me in my heart and in its grotesque reflections.
I cower at it and forget myself and whimper and say all the wrong things.
Hateful things, as my heart is on fire.
There is an anger in me, a blood red rage and then there is calm, cool, unaffected apathy.
It does not rear its head like the bull of my anger, but sinks like a stone.
Makes cool my bones.
I would rather spit fire, I’d rather let it wreck my lungs.
I wish I could scream it out or fight it out or **** it out or maybe just forget it exists.
But it remains frozen ice throughout me that weighs me to the ground.
The magnet that pulls me down down down.
Maybe this is the doomed, inevitable thing I’m feeling, the fear that my apathy will never melt away.
That I’ll never see the brighter days.
The stars in me keep choosing the wrong things and i’m lost in a galaxy of apathy.
Tenderness would melt me.

A case for apathy-- maybe I would get some sleep.