"distanced" poems
It seemed the space between us became torn and
Profoundly distanced....................
Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers,
Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol....
Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat
Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits
Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict
The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and
Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped
Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements
That delivered penetrating power, cupped around
Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points
Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the
Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching
And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows
Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents
An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades
Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for
Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you
Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour
Right now you need that shining knight, that white
Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you
Know that won't happen for you're already sinking
To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth
Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your
Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling
Outwards................
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of a vulture. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the ***** whale, and the ***** whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see.
I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this.
I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.
I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.
I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.
Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.
Life will never end when you are in it.”
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
The wind used to carry your whispers to me
gently,
lifting them from your distanced lips,
carrying them to my distanced ears.
The wind loved our delicate romance
and would do any favor
simply to hear
your next beautiful dance of words,
or to watch me smile,
heart melting,
at your whispered adoration.
But now it is restless, itchy summer
and though the wind rarely blows past
my ears,
I know your words drift slowly to me,
floating,
lingering,
whispering:
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 5:55 PM UTC
Is something you called me once.
Is it so bad that I thought it was-
Adorable as **** I hope it's not,
Because that sure would ****
We use to be closer,
I wish that we still were.
But you and I are in-
different, time-zones that is.
My self confidence has lowered,
Since we've become distanced.
It's true Thunder Lord,
Do you fear my existence?
I wonder if you do.
While you're up top,
Being Scooby-Dooby-Doo!
You know I have no clue.
I'm gig- gig- giggling so hard,
Right now. Who knew that this,
Scrub Lord could be such a clown?
I guess I knew, somewhere deep down.
I feel pretty silly writing all of this now.
After all you've labeld me.
Which I've done to you as well.
But it sure as hell wasn't easy.
I wrote this kind of fast.
Using memories from,
The past. A past that
Includes you in the cast.
I hope you don't mind me,
Spilling all of this out now.
I just didn't know how to say-
This stuff, it's kind of sacred.
Like a cow is to someone who-
Believes in Hinduism. Oh man,
I feel like I'm crossing some lines,
So I'll finish up, just give me time.
But it is true,
I do miss you.
And I wonder,
If you miss me to.
I don't care about what's happened.
Really, it's in the past now.
And I don't go there that often.
Just when I need to remember something.
So tell me ol' Voli?
Am I still your Annie?
I am being so cheesey.
Just say you'll support me.
And I promise I'll carry-
You.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
I would rather be hysterical than vulnerable
to what most people call love.
I would rather couple with strange women
on an Amsterdam getaway
than let one more man
try to own me.
I prefer to ignore my own psychodynamics
in favor of endless talking cure analysis
and occasional astrology cult ******
that promise to speed my eventual evolution
from wounded *** object to invulnverable starchild.
I don’t need a Beverly Hills shrink
to tell me my narcissism and depression and squeaky voice
are symbolic of never having the power
to set a boundary between me and my father
who doted over my puberty
with slobbering praise and veiled lust.
Everyone who knows me for more than a week
sees my father throwing me financial bones
instead of apologizing for what he did
and the more I take his money
the freer I feel
distanced by automobiles with dark-tinted windows,
a house with a skull and crossbones doormat,
a silver .45 under my pillow
and not one single ex-boyfriend
about whom I will ever say a kind word.
I have created emotional and psychological invulnerability;
all men are now my father
and all men pay the price
of never being loved by me
and I pay the price of never being able to let them love me.
Now I just play with partners
and when they inevitably start to use the “L” word
I start to run inside
and I bounce off the walls and mirrors
of my own emptiness
and I go on a photo safari to Africa
where I pretend to understand the meaning of life
and I put out restraining orders
against the men who insist that I explain
and I have come to rely on legal and monetary fences
to protect me from
the truth about my deep loneliness.
I’ve never had an ******
never said I love you twice to the same person
and I think
as long as the money’s there
I won’t have to.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
The times you made me laugh
The many times we spent so happy together
And the countless times
I thought how important you were to me
But it was too late when I realized that I love you
On every moment I spent with you
The world seemed happier
No pretensions, no worries when I’m with you
‘coz in front of you, just a simple ‘me’ is enough
You accept everything about me
No stain of judgement in your eyes
That is why you mean so much to me
But it was too late when I realized that I love you
One day I woke up
And realized that you were more than a friend
More than just important to me
But I shook that thought away thinking it was just temporary
Afraid how our friendship will change if I let those feeling take over
I chose to keep those feelings hidden, to avoid my secrets to spill,
I distanced myself from you
Hoping for the feelings to cease
But I did not see that the distance was already too far
Too far that you could not see me any longer
You forgot about me
My existence
Now you are with someone else
Another person have replaced my position
My position, my place beside you
All is lost,
Now everything is over
The times I spent laughing, happy with you is all gone
It was only then that I realized
That I love you
I LOVE YOU.
And it’s too late to say it.
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC
I'm slowly losing you
Day by day
I try to be strong
But I can't stay this way
I'm slowly losing you
And all that we had
I hope you miss those at times
Cause it tells what we had was true
I'm slowly losing you
I can feel the drift
How you've distanced from me
And there's nothing I can do
I'm slowly losing you
Or have I already lost you?
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
Trying to reach out to life
Feel distanced from me
I have travelled a distance
Went beyond the road I planned
Life will not let me walk back
The erased road remains a memory
Now I have to move ahead
Without looking back
Life has strange ways
Where you travel without itineraries
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
"I'm just tired..."
Excuse one for the silence that ensues.
She listens as he tells her he refuses to hurt her
...even though she aches as the words leave his lips.
Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting is all she wants.
"I didn't sleep well..."
Excuse two for the agitated responses.
Her best friend has distanced herself
...but expects her to just sit by and wait to be wanted again.
Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting gags her.
"It was a rough night..."
Excuse three for the silent tears that stream down her face.
Her father tells her she's a spoiled, stupid *****
...but acts like he's a genius that's greater than God.
Food loses its appeal entirely.
"I don't need a mirror to see myself..."
Excuse four for her avoidance of reflective surfaces.
Her mirror has become her worst enemy
...reflecting her flaws and screaming her issues.
She no longer has an appetite.
"I'm fine"
Excuse five... and six for all the things she does in a day.
She's breaking, crying, and dying
...but its been repeated so many times her friends have begun to believe it.
Food now makes her want to throw up.
"Excuses, Excuses"
seven, eight, nine, ten for all the things she needs to deny
her mask of a smile makes everyone believe them all
...no one realizing how unhappy she is
she eats...but only because she doesn't want them to worry.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
‘it’s possible to love her
even after all of this’
pills
needles into arms
spoons with burnt bottoms
passed out on the floor
drooling
skinny
starving
convulsing
i knew when you
lied about being over it
you were still skinny
i saw the needle marks
in the crook of your elbow
i saw the spoons
in the back of the drawer
i knew when you
made me go home so soon
your dealer was also your affair
your husband, your ex lover
your ex life, the opposite of living
you’re dying
you are dying and it is your fault
and i have run out of empathy
yes it is a disease
yes it starts as a choice
yes
you were depressed
but you still
you.
you said.
“who cares i want to die anyway
who cares i’ll ruin my body
my brain my
relationships
my life”
the hope has left your eyes
what’s it like to look up to a destroyer
what’s it like to love a broken woman
what’s it like to watch the progression
the regression
the walking backwards
one step forward but if you say
“just one more time”
it’s 5 steps back
10 steps back
20
30
the cut is deeper
the scars are darker
and you are gone.
what’s it like
to admire an addict
to be denied what you had
to be ignored
questions go unheard
“where have you been?
is everything okay?
i miss you.”
you see the inevitable
you hope it turns out different
you hope she is the one in a million
to miss a ruiner
to cry over the loss
to realize that
you distanced yourself for this exact reason
it is sickening
and you ask
“what if”
but “what if”
isn’t
“what is”
so you vow to never go down that path
so you pray you will break the cycle
so you progress
one step at a time.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
You have long nails
I chew mine
Stunt their growth
With nervous teeth
Hungry teeth
I stunt mine
And lament their loss
We contrast
Black to colour
Stride to bounce
Distanced to cuddly
You avert questions,
Throwing random jest
I open up and bare my soul
Honest as I can figure
Under these beautiful cloaks
We sing in unison
Sorrow and deep caring
Somehow, we understand.
Our awkwardness is equal to none
That just heightens the intensity
I explore, feet, hands,
You let me, then clasp tight
The goth and the pixie.
Who would have thought?
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
A dancing Bear grotesque and funny
Earned for his master heaps of money,
Gruff yet good-natured, fond of honey,
And cheerful if the day was sunny.
Past hedge and ditch, past pond and wood
He tramped, and on some common stood;
There, cottage children circling gaily,
He in their midmost footed daily.
Pandean pipes and drum and muzzle
Were quite enough his brain to puzzle:
But like a philosophic bear
He let alone extraneous care
And danced contented anywhere.
Still, year on year, and wear and tear,
Age even the gruffest, bluffest bear.
A day came when he scarce could prance,
And when his master looked askance
On dancing Bear who would not dance.
To looks succeeded blows; hard blows
Battered his ears and poor old nose.
From bluff and gruff he waxed curmudgeon;
He danced indeed, but danced in dudgeon,
Capered in fury fast and faster.
Ah, could he once but hug his master
And perish in one joint disaster!
But deafness, blindness, weakness growing,
Not fury's self could keep him going.
One dark day when the snow was snowing
His cup was brimmed to overflowing:
He tottered, toppled on one side,
Growled once, and shook his head, and died.
The master kicked and struck in vain,
The weary drudge had distanced pain
And never now would wince again.
The master growled; he might have howled
Or coaxed,--that slave's last growl was growled.
So gnawed by rancor and chagrin
One thing remained: he sold the skin.
What next the man did is not worth
Your notice or my setting forth,
But hearken what befell at last.
His idle working days gone past,
And not one friend and not one penny
Stored up (if ever he had any
Friends; but his coppers had been many),
All doors stood shut against him but
The workhouse door, which cannot shut.
There he droned on,--a grim old sinner,
Toothless, and grumbling for his dinner,
Unpitied quite, uncared for much
(The rate-payers not favoring such),
Hungry and gaunt, with time to spare;
Perhaps the hungry, gaunt old Bear
Danced back, a haunting memory.
Indeed, I hope so, for you see
If once the hard old heart relented,
The hard old man may have repented.
4.6k
The world revolves and I can't hold it’s pace
neither roll around the unending cycles
may be it is the grey hues polluting my growth
or this age that is fiercely catching up with me
The sun rises and there I lay watching it rays
numbed, unwanted, determined and yet focused
such days I just wish for a lover's touch
I long for that unending lullaby uncorrupt
Sometimes the silence in the pain cascades
It trickles in droplets settling on the morning dew
and I wish to follow its pace, lay in the calm want
be carefree and unrestrained from emotions
I wish I could feel the rhythm of another heart
declare the green sheen of the unfolding leaves
as we lay counting the stars and making starts
laughing aimlessly as the joy surfaces unearthed
But all I see is the hurt of what love bears
the ones who held my soul close are strangers
unable to feel my innate palpable rhythms
fading on and on to a distanced and unmerged shore
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
**On 2nd Dec 1984
Occurred
World’s worst industrial disaster,
“The Bhopal gas tragedy”
Leaving thousands dead,
Children orphaned and many people with disabilities for life.
Following day,
Cries of help were heard
Amongst the dead,
Lay few children alive
Shone bright, a ray of hope,
Miraculously the deadly effects
Of the gas they could cope.
Taken under the caring wings of an NGO,
With Medical aid administered
And the vital support to grow.
Amongst the children
There was a girl named Ganga
And a boy named Ravi,
together with other such children,
they grew up,
Finding solace in each other’s
Company.
When reached teenage,
the girls had to be moved in a women’s hostel.
Distanced made them closer to each other,
And, the love grew stronger.
Ganga always dreamt of riding pillion on a bike with Ravi .
Ravi, the crazy boy,
sold his house (compensation by govt.)
And fulfilled her desire,
Often they went for long rides.
In the following years,
The love bloomed,
And
With blessings and love,
their marriage was solemnised
By the NGO.
All the women from the hostel
Joined the wedding ceremony,
Bollywood songs were played loudly,
The Haldi, Sangeet and Mehendi
ceremony made it more lively
On the wedding day,
Ganga attired in traditional weaves
And bridal make up,
A beautiful bride she looked
The hostel warden and her spouse
did her “Kanyadan”.
Fortunate was I to bear
the testimony of the union,
As I stayed in the working women’s hostel then.
Ganga moved in to her house
with Ravi to welcome a life anew.**
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
In Rome on the Campo di Fiori
Baskets of olives and lemons,
Cobbles spattered with wine
And the wreckage of flowers.
Vendors cover the trestles
With rose-pink fish;
Armfuls of dark grapes
Heaped on peach-down.
On this same square
They burned Giordano Bruno.
Henchmen kindled the pyre
Close-pressed by the mob.
Before the flames had died
The taverns were full again,
Baskets of olives and lemons
Again on the vendors' shoulders.
I thought of the Campo dei Fiori
In Warsaw by the sky-carousel
One clear spring evening
To the strains of a carnival tune.
The bright melody drowned
The salvos from the ghetto wall,
And couples were flying
High in the cloudless sky.
At times wind from the burning
Would driff dark kites along
And riders on the carousel
Caught petals in midair.
That same hot wind
Blew open the skirts of the girls
And the crowds were laughing
On that beautiful Warsaw Sunday.
Someone will read as moral
That the people of Rome or Warsaw
Haggle, laugh, make love
As they pass by martyrs' pyres.
Someone else will read
Of the passing of things human,
Of the oblivion
Born before the flames have died.
But that day I thought only
Of the loneliness of the dying,
Of how, when Giordano
Climbed to his burning
There were no words
In any human tongue
To be left for mankind,
Mankind who live on.
Already they were back at their wine
Or peddled their white starfish,
Baskets of olives and lemons
They had shouldered to the fair,
And he already distanced
As if centuries had passed
While they paused just a moment
For his flying in the fire.
Those dying here, the lonely
Forgotten by the world,
Our tongue becomes for them
The language of an ancient planet.
Until, when all is legend
And many years have passed,
On a great Campo dci Fiori
Rage will kindle at a poet's word.
3.6k
it feels like the blood inside my veins is moving like quick dry cement does ten hours after it's poured
simultaneously a storm brews in them
similar to how mom once brewed soup that tasted of distanced family and bile
bile which still resides in a clump at the back of my throat from the last time i said your name
you are he-who-shall-not-be-named since saying your name is as dangerous as saying Voldemort’s
monochromatic colour schemes make up my world, each day either tinted or shaded
usually shaded because I was told that dark colours are slimming and that thought never left my mind
rain smudges all of the pigments together and even my glasses can't correct my vision
i love rain but my rainbows are always brown-black
like those karate belts you had when you lived
or how she used to mix all of her playdoh together
i used to believe that she created the world that way
god i wish i was right.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Because of you, I know too much
You ****** out my innocence with your maniacal way
Twisted my mind to get me to stay
I believed you which distanced me from reality
The truth you spewed was dripping in brutality
I listened and adjusted, everyday, more and more
I didn’t realize doing so was opening the door
To new demons, ones that taught me not to trust
Now I can’t have fun anymore, I can’t even feel lust
We haven’t talked in two years, but I still jump through hoops
My brain is sick and dark, it’s stuck in destructive loops
It’s really sad what I lost, the part of me that could surrender
I can’t open up my heart, it scares me to be tender
I push people away because i don’t want them to be like you
I wish we never crossed paths, I don’t know what to do
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 12:10 AM UTC
I can't risk it
I won't let myself
Put myself through all that **** again
I won't.
What?
You don't believe me?
...
It's how I look at you, isn't it.
The hope.
I didn't think it would show so plainly on my face.
Never wanted it to.
I suppose now that is has you expect me to explain myself
I refuse.
well, maybe just a little.
I parallel myself to the man who drowns on a boat in a freshwater lake
Surrounded by love
And somehow distanced from it.
I have grown to slap the hand that reaches for the water
And that hand has learned to remain
hidden.
I am a lost soul who speaks in metaphors because the truth would hurt you
and God knows I don't want that
Playing with words, toying with a melody
It keeps me sane.
So if a glance slipped out from within
I apologize
It won't happen again.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
Here standing again
at the edge of the cliff,
struggling against the
force of the wind.
Drenched and cold,
thinking and wondering
what to do.
This is what I was seeking.
I wanted to feel the
storm in my bones.
Fearing what I want and
wanting what I fear.
Desiring and yearning for it,
yet distanced myself from it.
Never been more sure
about changing than now.
Angels are busy working and
trying to show visions
of heaven.
But here am I clawing the
ground trying to get hell for you.
Now I have to stop struggling,
for this striving and toiling are not
yielding desired fruits.
I'm so breathless from all this
going up and down
trying to make it work.
Rest is not so bad after all this
rigours of running around.
Dullness has taken over the heart
of one who suppose to rule.
Stagnation cannot be tolerated
and condoned or we all go down.
Change is needful urgently.
It is time for you to learn the balance.
I bring from the east,
I bring from the west,
I bring from the south,
I bring from the north
the power of balance.
It begins in the spirit.
We can balance anything.
Our voice, our work, our body.
You can even balance your sadness.
First you find patience.
Perhaps you will meet patience in this
sunlight and become good friends.
I will tell you again.
I will tell you again and again
until your inside knows.
It takes a long time to learn the art of balance.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
I remember when we were young,
and the shark fin made by falling water droplets
from the back-and-forth sway of windshield wipers
on our car window would scare you
Because you thought that the spaces we couldn’t reach
would form monsters in their crevices,
and I would laugh and roll my eyes,
like big brothers did.
And I remember how,
on nights when we would sleep over at grandma’s,
the pitter-patter of our puerile feet on hardware floors
was the only sound to be heard.
Shadows formed where the beam of my flashlight hit,
adorned with fading Spiderman stickers and the like-
and you would squeal under my whispered protests
because of the unfurling octopus limbs
that were the leaves of a potted plant.
We grew older, and so did my suspicions,
as you crept out of the realm of childish make-believe
and into a world that even when showcased in daylight was a nightmare.
Demons, from the deep fire that enflamed the world’s core
tried to penetrate the surface, according to you.
But as their hands reached forth out of the earth’s skin,
they curled in agony, the evil of the earth halting their conquest.
They fossilized and shriveled in autumn’s wake,
gray and deadened fingertips just unassuming tree branches,
the perennial reaches just fibrous spindles blurring in the sunlight.
The world held prospects despite your macabre claims,
And as we grew I distanced myself from your melancholic tune.
Trees were trees, and bore fruit at summer’s twilight
and the friends I made were all of the parts most sweet.
I was content with the woman I met, she blonde-haired and lovely
her free-falling locks sparkling gold in every light,
and her personality as rich and as glossy.
I was content with my life of looking away from spaces
where our human hands couldn’t reach,
demons out of eyesight in the beam of glass city buildings.
But as the dusk of one day segued into the dawn of another,
I grew weary,
each routine just a part of this monotonous human noise
to which I, too had voiced.
And I found myself driving one day when thunder roared in the sky,
rain once again pouring into its shark fin mold.
Your voice came into my head,
the demon hands that had had died trying to take us over with their evil
but overwhelmed by our own brand of hellish wretchedness
lined the freshly paved sidewalk,
and with a twist of the wheel one unreachable space met another.
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
I haven't really faced these feelings yet
They've been hidden deep in my soul
Because it'd be easier to be heartless
Than to acknowledge the reality
I know I broke up with you
And I know the way things happened was not ok
I keep replaying where things changed
Trying to pinpoint that moment where
Everything stopped feeling right
And I think I finally found it
We were doing great together
So much love
We thrived together
And then I told you I'm polyamorous
And then I didn't listen to you
I didn't recognize my problematic behavior
And you were scared
I assume you felt like you were losing me
And I was finally feeling free
But I wasn't gone yet
We were still trying to be ok
But you shut down, understandably
And I got scared and distanced myself
You needed me more
And I felt trapped by that
So we both slowly changed
And neither could keep up with the others needs
I am not trying to justify this
I am just trying to understand
Because I still miss you
When I'm laying here alone
Cuddling my Nemo
And all I can picture is how you guys cuddled on the couch together
Or when I'm out doing something
And I think about how much you'd like it
Trying not to wish you were with me
But sometimes I do
I can't even play video games
Or watch love it or list it
Without these haunting memories
So I just avoid it and do nothing instead
Maybe if we lived closer it would have been different
Maybe if I would have paid more attention to your needs
We wouldn't have ended up this way
I know I said we weren't compatible
But we were once upon a time
I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't enough
You deserve so much more than I gave you
I'm sorry for not being enough for you
Because you really deserve everything good
You're a good person
And I care about you
I hope you find happiness one day
I know you will
You're good
I'm sorry for taking that away from you
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 2:38 AM UTC
I'm not an electrician but I do know this.
A voltage produces an electrostatic field. As voltage increases between two distanced points, the field intensifies. You and I were similar in this way. We were two points with voltage charging between us. We somehow created a region stronger than us. Our love flowed like currents. Our love brought us closer. The love between us intensified, much like the way the electrostatic field intensifies. Each kiss and touch made the blood running through my veins turn into electricity. You ignited a fire in me.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
Two years have passed since the ship set sail
Different paths connected to each other, bonds never fail
Memories well treasured, killing any doubts
Distance is just a measure, patience is what counts.
HAPPY SECOND ANNIVERSARY
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
it isn't until you let go
that you notice the blood
dropping from your palms
it isn't until you look down
that you notice how close
you are to the bottom
it isn't until I distanced myself
that I realized you were
slowly killing me
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 6:35 AM UTC
Blonde
Dark brown
Blue eyes
Brown eyes
Long hair
Short hair
Pale skin
Sun-kissed skin
Confusing
Understandable
Distanced
Always near by
Two choices
One mind
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 3:12 AM UTC