looked at you for too long
and then i realized
you are human, too

fallible
uncertain
flawed

piously pined for
palatial splendor i
placed in my dreams of you,
imperfect you

and it's no ones fault
a figure headed facade
fabricated by figments
of my frivolous imagination

put you on a pedestal
made you divine
made you holy

you, the ceiling
high above my head
and i, looking up
in the sistine chapel

untouchable
untarnished

couldn't see the cracks
beneath the varnish

then, close enough to study
a faint fresco with critical eyes
fantasy faded in the fault lines
of your frowning face

looked for too long
until i realized
you were just as broken as me

a collection of shattered pieces
shrouded and shy
once a shrine
now a shriek

wide eyes on you
a sinner, still
i called you sacred

ignoring the nature of
the irreverent, the profane

liked the luster
of longing lingering
on my lips
when i breathed your name

the veil torn
the truth beheld
and you are not god

gambling grief and
gleaming gloom
thought i could be
the sun to your moon

majesty to malignancy
momentarily merciful
moreover cruel

monstrous mr monsoon
after all, human, too

The trouble with ends is not ends
As such as ends always come,
Sooner or later the good or the bad
I have in my life will absolutely,
Like my life here,
End,

No - what hurts is not the ending
But those realisations one has beforehand,
That something was a mistake,
Or that what I thought I knew
I just
Don't,

When you know someone
Truly appreciates you,
Gets who you are
Warts and all then find they dont,
And worse than that - they
Won't.

The moment I look into your eyes I knew,
My mind couldn't deny you,
My heart couldn't deny you,
My soul couldn't deny you,
My life couldn't be lived without you.

I was blind to the rest of the world,
It was our world,
You allowed the unimportant to invade our world,
What's ours can't be touched,
You allowed the outside to invade the inside.

What's lost can't be found,
What's torn can't be repaired,
What's damaged can't be put back together,
What's dead can't be brought back to life.

The day,
The Poem I wrote to you.
Died in someone else hand.

I just want to see her and tell her I'm sorry for everything I've done to her and i know it's wrong but I still love her and I still want to kiss her and love her. I know she doesnt care about me but I'm sorry. I'm still missing you but I know your happy now and I wont mess with that. I'm still missing you so much

Is it wrong to start to feel and remember how you felt and old love but still care because I am in the situation now with a girl i used to love and still do love but I'm also happy with the girl I'm with now i just miss my old love a lot

I am once again
torn between forgiving them
and forgetting them

6:29 PM
7/11/20

Sometimes I crave for a loving heart,
Who has not been touched or torn apart,
But it feels like this world is not meant,
For a soul full of desire compared to art.