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#almostlover
and I keep dreaming of a simple admirer, someone of whom I will never tire, gentle, kind and sweet like a toffee, with eyes, made of coffee. - gio
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Nov 8, 2020
Nov 8, 2020 at 1:14 PM UTC
brown eyed lover
goodbye my almost lover guess we will never discover discover what could have been between us two what we could have win together, me and you thought I could be your bae still thinking about us at the end of the day I thought that if we vibe, we vibe didn’t need words to describe but I don’t understand it turned out all different as than I planned so goodbye my almost lover maybe one day we will recover recover the days we’ve lost the paths left uncrossed because life is full of second chances and I might get a happy end, romantic. - gio, 01.05.2020
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May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
happy end
i pray that the melody of me play along with the sonata of you and her. i pray it echoes through your head as you did to me with the waltz of almosts and the staccato of uncertainty.
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 12:47 AM UTC
Staccato
I saw you on the bus yesterday. The first thing I saw was your leather jacket The one with the orange patch Your hair was golden brown And its waves fell down to your shoulder You pulled out a book And I see the small scribble of a tattoo on your right hand As hard as I tried I couldn't see exactly what you were reading I imagine it was something done by Faulkner, Twain, or Hemingway I imagine you listen to jazz and drink black coffee You play the banjo and guitar You order scotch on the rocks Every ******* time You write poetry for your friends sometimes And You claim its terrible And your friends claim it brilliant You would write me some, and I would recite it when we fight You would take pictures of me when I wake up in the morning with nothing but your shirt on You would take them to the dark room and hide them in your drawer You would laugh at me when I put on your big black glasses and I at you when you would tell me bad jokes You would drag me with you to see all of your favorite shows And I would joke like you actually had to drag me I would drag you shopping but you never minded as long as it was a thrift store Our apartment would be small Because neither of us cared too much about being wealthy We would follow our dreams I would paint and tell people how they are feeling And you would play music and sing and write and tell me how I am feeling We would be rich with love The love girls pray for every night before they go to sleep See, we would wake up every day with that feeling like the one you get when your crush in high school says hello in the hall We wold be mad for each other But I don't even know you There on the bus I watched you, a stranger, walk on and walk off In this amount of time I have constructed a whole new path of life A path I might have taken if I would have picked up my bag sit two seats closer If I wasn't so nervous of what you may think of me and asked you about your book Do you like it? What is your name? If I were to have asked you out for coffee Life today would be different I would be saying your name over and over in my head I would have started the book you are reading Maybe I would be texting you right now Instead of writing a poem Maybe I would be writing about the man I met on the bus not the man I never met Maybe you would break my heart one day But we may never know now Maybe I will see you again Maybe then I will ask for your name or the book you were reading in February But this city is a big City And there might not be such a thing called fate And so I will miss you And your scribble tattoo And the path I was too scared to take.
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Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
The Man I Never Met on the Bus
I saw you on the bus yesterday. The first thing I saw was your leather jacket The one with the orange patch Your hair was golden brown And its waves fell down to your shoulder You pulled out a book And I see the small scribble of a tattoo on your right hand As hard as I tried I couldn't see exactly what you were reading I imagine it was something done by Faulkner, Twain, or Hemingway I imagine you listen to jazz and drink black coffee You play the banjo and guitar You order scotch on the rocks Every ******* time You write poetry for your friends sometimes And You claim its terrible And your friends claim it brilliant You would write me some, and I would recite it when we fight You would take pictures of me when I wake up in the morning with nothing but your shirt on You would take them to the dark room and hide them in your drawer You would laugh at me when I put on your big black glasses and I at you when you would tell me bad jokes You would drag me with you to see all of your favorite shows And I would joke like you actually had to drag me I would drag you shopping but you never minded as long as it was a thrift store Our apartment would be small Because neither of us cared too much about being wealthy We would follow our dreams I would paint and tell people how they are feeling And you would play music and sing and write and tell me how I am feeling We would be rich with love The love girls pray for every night before they go to sleep See, we would wake up every day with that feeling like the one you get when your crush in high school says hello in the hall We wold be mad for each other But I don't even know you There on the bus I watched you, a stranger, walk on and walk off In this amount of time I have constructed a whole new path of life A path I might have taken if I would have picked up my bag sit two seats closer If I wasn't so nervous of what you may think of me and asked you about your book Do you like it? What is your name? If I were to have asked you out for coffee Life today would be different I would be saying your name over and over in my head I would have started the book you are reading Maybe I would be texting you right now Instead of writing a poem Maybe I would be writing about the man I met on the bus not the man I never met Maybe you would break my heart one day But we may never know now Maybe I will see you again Maybe then I will ask for your name or the book you were reading in February But this city is a big City And there might not be such a thing called fate And so I will miss you And your scribble tattoo And the path I was too scared to take.
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78
Almost, maybe- not quite there. Sometimes, never, Never always. Yo-yo, back and forth. Not quiet steady. Goodbye my almost lover.
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
Almost Lover
We shook hands. To say hello. We shared a kiss. To say goodnight.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
We met once. Briefly.