we never spend time together because you always say you "don't have time" or you're "too busy".

but if you really loved me wouldn't you make time to be with me?

or are you "too busy" to love me too

For her,
As it always should have been.
For her,
As it always should be,
For her,
When her hearts full of grief,
And she’s crying cuz of me.

After the silence settles,
Like dust.
We hardly feel dumb struck.
Sideways glances to say with my eyes:
For her.

And her long hair,
And her loud laugh,
And the long walks,
And the loud laughs,
Will never be mine again.

--For her--

With a quill over paper
For muse, we are excavators
We pour out our hearts
So joy, love, peace to impart
To hold a torch over emotional darkness
To fill each others hollowness
Its for the love we write

When we write
We are called poets
A name fitting and right
But your theft just says you are mentally poor
Reducing you further to a mere thief
And nothing close to a P
Not to talk of a poet.

The moon is not a thing you can steal
Trust me its pure folly
That's a dumb idea to conceive
Posting others' poems
Posting like a poet?
Like seriously
How does that sound to 'your' hearing?
DUMB
Even so, to even dare, you must be too dumb to realize its dumb

To acknowledge is not so hard
Its just adding one more line on your pad
I want to deceive myself that you are not too dumb to know that
If you didn't know, now you do.

PS: You could post my poem
That does not make you a poet
It just makes you a thief
Suffice it to say, the worst kind
Without robbing me of the fact that I'm a POET

Her hands over her streaking face
She screams
Don't look at me
And good god I look at her
I look past all that and I see
Underneath scratches and ticks
My god she's as lonely as me.

I can smell him on my sheets
      I can taste him in my dreams
             I can still feel every inch where he's touched me
I hear his laughter echoing in the walls
             I can still see him in all these pictures I saved for
           memories

But this bed is bare
My dream's a nightmare
       I can't hear
             His laughter
       He's not near
             Enough to touch
My eyes are blinded by tears
He's killed my senses,  
      I'm no longer aware

Everything around me,  slowly fading away
His face, his scent, his laughter,  his touch
Maybe I'll just pop a few pills and sleep away the day
At least he's in my nightmares, the pain of reality is too much