What are words, but mere images of time,
Leafy similes that tend to rhyme,
Melodies that fade away to memories,
Written abstractions, proof of obscurities?

What are words, except strange tries,
To express emotions made of ice,
Mere tribulations, left unjustified,
Vague articulations that tend to die?

What are words, when I cannot find,
Adjectives, verbs, nouns, and signs,
That reaches the innermost, essential soul,
Of my deepest feelings, our very goal?

What are words, that leave you speechless,
Stunning languages, sounds, scribbled messes,
Answers of diction, silly confabulations,
Stirring tools, to test descriptions?

What are words, which reach the limit,
Text, talk, vibrations that fit,
The pieces missing, the definition,
Lingering in every other exhibition?

What are words, what are morphemes,
Speeches, utterances, lengths of keys,
To the secret reassurance humans need,
Sensations of steady expressions in a mind?

What are words, boundaries of lines,
Vowels, consonants, verbal binds,
A stem, a phoneme, a lexeme, a note,
On which we all deliberately wrote?

I just want to cry myself asleep, maybe for the rest of my life,
For where the river runs, my heart bleeds a path
Of yearning more than I can handle after you,
O dear, how can love and pain be so deep?
When all I awake to is empty dreams and faster paced life
Adrift this lonely abyss, I am missing you.
I’ll be seeing you, in a summertime’s heaven,
Filled with sweet glimpses stolen from your hazel sunflower eyes,
I swear you have stolen part of my soul, deeper than One can bear,
Forgetting shall not happen soon enough and
Moving on may never come.

What is it about a tragedy that leaves me hanging
On the edge of the seat and entangled with hope,
Despair, a new meaning to life
Is it possible the best kinds of love are left open to explore
Or end with an empty kind of feeling
Maybe the best meaning of love is found in the curiosity
Sparked by a tragic ending
Where everything is just barely lost, or perhaps found
And maybe it’s the meaning behind the loss, or
The loss behind the unspoken meaning or the love left still,
In the darkness, just waiting, lurking.

For after watching a fairytale ending,
I am complete, content, and the reality of my realization
Is unreal, and quite exaggerated,
But the truth found in a tragedy leaves more pain, more emotion, deeper
Sense than any happy romance could, for perhaps
It is the times of confusion, loss, and ambiguity that we come alive,
Perhaps a tragedy is, after all the reality,
The most probability and the best ending
Perhaps, our lives are indeed, tragic, like a wave
Engulfing my ever present need, a desperate cry of
An unlikely answer, fixing the helpless pitch in the endless void
We meet our very own tragedy.

I shall liken to the fact that I am indeed, alive and not dead,
I shall be satisfied that air penetrates my nostrils and breath radiates my skin,
To be sanctified in Him shall be more than all else striven for,
Yet, incomparable to the fact is how dead life acts,
I am a poorly driven soul that is starving for what I cannot yet have
And to have everything I shall need and want more, is nothing brave of me,
I am a selfish human being, who craves the instant gratification found in flesh
And words, and romance, not Truth and Love is what such men cannot even afford,
What shall I liken to this generation, a bleeding heart? A dulled piano in search for notes,
A key lost without a lock to be had, or words that are endless in my rambling head,
I fear what I am looking for, is what will never be had of me, I fear, that I may be lost among the darkness,
That I may be one-in-of-the-same, a vapor, a piece of pain, a washed up vine thrown among the sea,
Where art thou my Romeo, where o where do you hide your face, where dost thy go to awaken thy graven soul,
where shall I spot my face to yours, where may our eyes may lock and our hearts may soar?
Is there not yet a lover among thorns, is there not yet, some love to be formed,
To be found, to be had, am I not some forgotten old hag, where do dreams liven up to reality and where can satisfaction be met without dread?
I shall frolick the lilies, I shall strike another match, to dance where no turning back is necessary,
And to reach the cup that was set down amongst the parched is where I shall find my reward.

I miss the look in your eyes,
The excitement in your smile,
And the touch of your hand,
I miss the sweet smell of your morning breath,
The way your hair sticks out in every which way, it possibly can,
And you twirling your leg hair into tiny little pine trees,
While passing the time away.

I miss your two front teeth,
And being calmed down by your voice,
I miss your billions of self-pics,
Let’s not forget you leaving your stuff everywhere,
Yeah, I can’t believe I miss it either,
And the ridiculousness of your lovely, barely noticed Canadian accent
I miss you fretting over balding,
I miss hearing about the way you love your family
And our awesome God talks, I miss listening to you pray,
Hearing you practice guitar,
I miss seeing you every freakin’ day!

I miss our weirdness,
I miss you knowing exactly what I’m trying to say,
Filling in my broken sentences,
Filling in the gaps to my half-sung songs, singing the parts I don’t know, loud and clear,
And agreeing with my odd observations, as if it was a great one,
I miss you giving me the benefit of the doubt, just being so sweet and polite, listening,
You were always good at listening,
I miss watching funny movies with you, and telling you you’re wrong, when you knew you were right all along, and then me coming back to you and telling you how right you are!

I miss being near you, and laughing with you,
I miss the way you half laugh at something silly or dumb I say
And half-rolling your eyes, the way you do, when I am ludicrous!
I miss the way you are, on your good days, on your reserved days,
On your sad days, on those awkward days, on the days I couldn’t be near you,
On every single day I ever had with you, I miss those days…
And I miss your face, and I miss your heart, and I miss you more,
Every day and every second, I am missing you, when we are apart.

…even if you never know, if you never care, if it doesn’t matter, if it never will, I still, am madly in love with you and am missing you like Jesus misses those lost souls.
I miss you, here, now, forever, and I will always love you, and be fighting to forget you, always…always, my dear.

I THINK YOU’D LIKE THIS
AND, I LIKE YOU
SO I’D THOUGHT I’D GIVE IT TO YOU
JUST A LITTLE SOMETHING
THAT MADE ME THINK OF YOU
AND MAYBE WHEN YOU SEE THIS
YOU’D THINK OF ME, A FRIEND, WHO
CARES FOR YOU AND THEN YOU’D BE
BE THINKING OF ME, TOO.

I THOUGHT OF YOU TODAY, AND THAT
PICTURE YOU SENT MY WAY,
AND WONDERED HOW YOU’VE BEEN LATELY,
FOR EVERY TIME I SEE IT, I SEE YOU,
AND WISH YOU WERE RIGHT HERE,
WONDERING ABOUT ME, TOO
BECAUSE THERE’S NOT MANY WHO SEE ME
THE WAY YOU DO, AND
I’M STARTING TO SEE THINGS
THE WAY YOU DO, AND MISSING THE WAY
YOU’D SEE ME, TOO.

IS THAT SO? WELL, I WONDER IF WE WERE
THINKING THE SAME WAY,
AT THE SAME TIME, ON THE SAME DAY
FOR HERE I AM MISSING YOU, AND WONDERING
WHEN YOU’LL MISS ME, TOO,
THE WAY MY HEART LONGS FOR YOU
AND THE FRIENDSHIP WE ONCE KNEW,
IS IT GNAWING AT YOU, TOO?

IT’S EVERY DAY, THE SAME WAY
WHEN I LOOK AT THE WAY YOU SEE ME,
I WONDER WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG,
TO SEE YOU, TOO, TO FIND MY WAY BACK TO YOU,
SO, I WISH TO BE WITH YOU, FOR MY THOUGHTS
ARE FILLED OF ONLY YOU, AND MY EYES
WAIT FOR THE DAY, I’D SOON SEE YOU
AND THEN, MY HANDS PICK UP THE LAST
PHOTO YOU SENT, AND I SEE A WHOLE NEW YOU
AND WONDER IF YOU LOVE ME TOO,
THE WAY, I TRULY DO LOVE YOU.