I keep forgetting
The weight that was lifted
When you let me go

I keep forgetting
The light in my eyes
That reignited

I keep forgetting
That I am whole again
All on my own

But I won’t forget
What I’ve learned
From being hurt

A lantern can only go so high before it must come down.
A smile can only last so long until it becomes a frown.

Happiness eventually turns to sadness.
But the opposite is true too.

A frown can only last so long till it becomes a smile.
A lantern can be reignited.
and it's only a matter of time until you see that lantern floating high in the sky.

Just this last year, in August of 2013, I was introduced to this website by an acquaintance of mine.
We'd gone on a couple of dates together, but both decided things weren't moving mutually in our
favor. I'd told her that there's no thing I love more than writing. There's a quality in the transference of emotion from thought to page that I just can't find anywhere else. Sad to say, I told her, I haven't written anything in a very long time. Was it writer's block, she asked. I shook my head, but couldn't commit to an answer one way or the other.

Sometime later, maybe weeks after that conversation downtown at The Rialto, she sent me a text message. That was when my cell phone service was still active. She said that she found this website -- literally, this website -- where a large community of people post their poetry. Hard times were fallen on her and all that, and she said that writing poetry again was a great release. She sent me a link to the website so that I could check it out.

What happened after that was nothing short of a small, personal miracle. Words were coming to me again, fast, fast. For years, nothing genuine would come. Suddenly, the gates opened. Ask anyone who enjoys writing why they write and I'm sure you'll get many, many different answers. Mine is this: to affect. There's no greater joy for me than knowing I've affected others in a way that drives them to an end. A positive end, of course. That old saying, about being able to reach out and touch just one person. That's more than enough for me.

The pain. The drama. The isolation. The spiritual dissonance. The love. The joy. The passion. The surrender. There have been a lot of feelings that drive the words I write, and I'm happy to know that there have been people out there reading, even if only a few. In a way, it's like you've all been riding along with me, and that means more than I could ever say. Instead of trying to describe it in detail, I'll say, Thank You.

I have more piece of poetry I'll be publishing here. The final piece to the Arterial Winter collection. It wouldn't feel right to leave without putting the final nail in that coffin. In the meantime, I'll slowly be removing my older works from the website, one by one, until they're all gone. Over the course of the next few weeks, I'll be rearranging everything into new collections, and figuring out interesting ways to print and sell each piece. Needless to say, I'm very excited for what the future brings.

Thank you. I really can't thank all of you who took the time to even peek at my work enough for the fire you've reignited inside of me. These endeavors, along with a couple of novel projects I've started, have given me the justification I need to actually consider myself a writer. Regardless of situation or circumstance, I'll be finding you all again somewhere. See you later. See you soon.

Best Regards

There always has to be
Something coming up
To satisfy the level
Of chaotic vigour
To bring a solemn change.
There always have to be dreams
Which need to
Be torn apart
So that the better in life
Makes it's way
There always has to be
An ocean which
Drowns you into itself
And consumes your sorrows
And transports you
To the intergalactic world.
There always has to be a fire
In your burning soul
Which kills the pretence in you
And builds you up again
Brick by Brick.

Not so much of a poem as just a quick thank you.
To all of you who have read and shown such love and support.

This past week I have had my passion reignited for writing and poetry.
No rhyme or verse, nor any thing else that I can conceive of. can show the smallest portion of gratitude I have for everyone here!

Hopefully, I can in some way repay a bit of the kindness that I've gotten from you.

Much love and caring,

Skip

The darkness had settled as we followed our headlights and looked for a portable sign indicating where we were to turn off the highway and make our way to the Winters’ home.  January, snow on the ground, the coldness of news that the pancreatic cancer was not going away in spite of months of congregational and private prayers, and here we were, making our way to the house to pray.

We arrived and parked along a long gravel lane and then joined a steady line of people walking slowly toward the house – little children with parents, older couples, a few teens. We moved slowly, not sure what to expect, heavy with our thoughts, not speaking. Ahead of us stood the pastor and the house. Arriving, we grasped thin vigil candles and passed the flame from one silent person to the next.  A bit uncertain, we moved to positions around the darkened house, aware that a child was looking out at us into the dark.  Our candles flickered uncertainly in the chill air, and we shielded them with our gloved hands and waited.  

One by one individuals began to pray quietly.  Some spoke sentence long prayers and went silent while others pled tearfully with God for stricken mother, the husband, the little children inside the silent house.  The breeze snuffed flames from the less vigilant, and the line around the house darkened.  We waited in the night. Above us stars shone and the eastern horizon glowed over Minneapolis.  Someone began to whistle an old hymn, “Day by Day, and with each passing moment, strength I find to meet my sorrows here….”  The murmur softened.

The sound of singing drew us back to the front of the house where the pastor was beckoning people to join him in a huddle, to stand with him.  “I feel like a choir leader,” he said, “Come stand with me.”  We moved in next to him.  Those with still burning candles shared the flames, and the entire group was again glowing with candlelight.  We prayed as a group, individuals speaking their hearts to God and the open sky and each other. Prayers moved from individual requests to collective behests – prayers for increased faith in desperate times, prayers for peace and comfort for the family, prayers for steadfast love for God and each other.  Tears wet cold cheeks as people hugged.  

Something good came from that night under the silent sky.  I’m not sure I can put it into words, and I don’t know what God will do with Laurie W, but I am at peace today, after months of unrest and wavering faith.  Under the sky and standing in the snow next to my wife, I thought about those candles and how symbolic their flickering and going out and reigniting is.  When I was standing in the circle around the house, my flame died several times, and thankfully, my wife’s flame reignited mine.  We walked back to the group with candles burning and were able to pass the fire on to others until we all stood in firelight. Alone, any one of us would have been in the dark and out in the cold.  Together, we relit each other’s fires and were warmed by each other’s voices as we called out to God and sang.

I stood waiting for her I was told she would come
I stood waiting cold and numb
Numbed by the pain, tablets and lotions
Numbed by the hope of a notion
A notion that said I might find a cure
A cure that would let me lead a life I could finally endure

For my life has been one of repeated pain
Pain from the physical, emotional, where there is no gain
A life that is lived in between, of darkness and then sparkle
A life that is to my own heart no more than a debacle

I was told If I met her she could help me create
My own alchemy, a precious recipe that would make
A remedy that would soothe my soul allow it to rest
Allow my physical body to stop undergoing this continual test

I heard movement come through the blackness
Towards me to meet, a beautiful figure, dazzling and complete
Her beauty was breathtaking her adornment a delight
She illuminated my world at once and reignited my own light

She has a familiarity that my body recognizes, a bejeweled
Being who lights up my world with her smile and surprises
Even me as I watch and stare as she moves through the darkness
With such knowledge and without care

I follow her light down passageways and past keeps
And notice parts of my body awakening like from a sleep
A body that wants to talk to me and say
That authenticity is the alchemy from which you have strayed

Your body has such wisdom its waiting to be read.
This is the alchemy you search for, its that voice in your head
It is an illuminated manuscript  gilded with the finest gold, gold of your own making
your life experience is the beauty you need to hold.

The magic is in your intuition, that you hold deep within yourself
You follow this beautiful lady and yet she is a mirror of your own self
She came because you finally called her and she sits in front of you now
Administering her balms that lingers on your skin, it caresses the pain you feel
and smoothes you from within.

But this is a balm of your own making , made out of all your own pain
It sparkles with the light you have been seeking it is your own beauty,
Hopelessness and pain.

So look no longer for the alchemists hand, behold what you see in the
mirror and be glad that you stand, for you are a beauty to behold, a life
to be treasured, a life that is lived in, a life that can be measured.

A voice now forgotten, your memories displaced,
What once was warm and tender, beneath the ice encased.
Bluntly reignited, defenseless your voice entreats,
Searching for the source, finding treachery, deceit.
Endlessly tortured, by the ghosts that haunt this place.

An attempt to cope, to mask this bitter taste,
My mind stoicly vacant, then demanded by your face.
Gazing into the distance, catch a flash of golden hair,
Desperate to find you, but into emptiness I stare.
Foiled again, by your ghosts that haunt this place.

Habits I must repattern, and footsteps to retrace
Dispose of lingering tokens, never to replace.
Trying to redeem, the time I have lost with you,
And the time that I have squandered, I never will renew,
By chasing your ghosts that haunt this place.

There’s a tremor
That ripples through
This pocket of air,
The electric aura
That surrounds my hair,
The sounds are melodic,
Like the cries of scared
Spirits, calling Mladic
To make an appearance
In the lake of fire
He sent them to swim in,
But missing the point,
Missing the part of life
With a purpose,
Wishing to rise back up
To the surface
And start the slide all over again,
Start the decline down to
A black abyss where
Doors exist
Just too keep you in,
Where laws are *******
And the good guy never wins,
And I’m pretty sure
He never did,
I’ve never seen the good guy win,
Cuz if the good guy could Catch a break,
There’d be no lie to trap us in,
But either way there’s no way to escape,
Cuz the good guy never wins
And the good girl always gets *****,
So I’ll keep holding my sanity loosely,
And keep taking heed to her song,
That “every secret is juicy,
Whether it’s Ricky cheating on Lucy,
Or the world controlled by
Ancient snakes,
Either way you don’t get to say
How high the stakes of truth be,”
You don’t get paid
For being truthful,
It’s ruthless action
That’s truly
Beautiful,

Or maybe her face is too,
The one I saw peering in
Through a snow-rimmed window,
Buried in a fur-lined hood
With cheeks red with the
Sea of blood
Shifting just under
Paper skin,
The storm spawned
By the walk
Sending waves of colour
And life and vivacity
And ****** perfection
Crashing into
The softest cheeks
To ever brush mine,
The very ones I’ve wished to destroy
As the breath quickened,
The tempo rose,
And the sweat poured
Onto summer sheets
In a bed to small
And weak
To hold the tremendous weight
Of love deferred
And reignited
By a shared passion
For hurting and getting hurt.
The face in the window
Was flushed with heat,
Yet colder than the parents
That sent her out into the night,
Hoping she wouldn’t find something to eat,
And isn’t it funny how she still
found me?
Ready and willing
To be ripped apart
And devoured
For the deflowering
Of a misconceived heart.
I opened the door and let her in
So I could begin being born again.

i am holding on too tightly
let me fall. let me let go,
let me feel let me hurt
i want that ache again
love ******, im a slave
to heartbreak, i wanna
seek out those kisses
that leave my lips burning
want that fire reignited
deep in my chest again

there's just a shell now
built up like a cage
protect me from harm,
so i thought, but no
it's not letting anything out
it's not letting anything in
and im done im done
with that i need to feel again
i need to be alive again
my heart needs to beat
again. love ******, slave
to comfort, too afraid
of passion, of losing control

so here i am, heart beats
in a cage, needles in my arms,
anesthetized, clinging
on too tight to what my life was
let me fall into the unknown now
before i push myself off this ledge
it's been no fun at all
let me feel
let me fall

Hazel eyes hold untold sorrow,
Dreams of sleep without tomorrow.
A hopeless mind without a future,
A soup bowl born of shattered pewter.
Hidden away in a heart of ice,
Reignited and snuffed out twice,
A junkyard soul devoid of joy,
Another woman's one night toy.

Reignited haven of peaceful wonder
far away place of once upon a time
Begins and ends with happy ever after

I have rebuilt the temple.
I sense its arches supporting my weight,
Grace and power surging through my core.
I have rebuilt the temple,
A holy of holies resides in my soul,
A place of prayer as it unfolds--
I pray for Him to lend me sight through open ears.
I have rebuilt the temple,
Reignited each sacrifice of old--
No longer severed grace gone to waste,
No longer inside me a contradiction of faiths,
Freedom and beauty rise now from my flames.
I have rebuilt the temple,
Though its shell still stands--
A strip of land,
Desolate and serene.
I have rebuilt the temple,
For it had to be burned,
It had to be cleansed,
It had to be purged.
Its gold's destiny was to ignite
And it indeed was set alight,
Its flames, long extinguished,
Consume my mind in fright.
I rebuilt the temple,
Its sacrifices' horns stood sentinel,
While we awaited their blast
And paid cold cash in exchange for soiled souls.
I have rebuilt the temple,
Adorning it with bands of faith
And simple beauty and lights with which
To guide in sunny nights.
I have rebuilt the temple,
I break bread in its empty halls
And drink immortal wine
And answer the angel when he calls,
In the midst of his eternal watch
Over a box of long- forgotten treasures.
We have rebuilt our temples,
Woman to woman, keep my words,
Let none flow from your lips
To reach undeserving ears,
For a woman's wisdom is her might.
I have rebuilt this temple in my heart,
Its incense fills the corners of my soul,
The holy altar stands ***** within my mind,
And when I die it still will stand and does forever glory.

my lips parted
humbled by your resplendence
enchanted by the mystery of your beauty

so i spoke the words of promise
forged on an anvil of insanity
fashioned by a trembling tongue
the fire of fearful fidelity

a passion extinguished by acceptance
reborn from the sated ashes of embrace
reignited with the kindle of emotion
the inferno in the flame of your breath


                  © Qwey.ku

It started well, so cleanly
Soaked in Lush stuff she soothed the aches
Whilst wife was meanwhile cooking a treat
Cider soaked pork and apples
The taste was tremendous
Precedent set for the night ahead

Feeling cool as ganstas we bopped and grinded
To hip-hop only Jurassic 5 could please me with
We were few female amongst a crowd of masculinity
And we relished the imbalance
Flirting my way to the front of the bar
I reignited my relationship with the favourite Jaegar-Bomb
And there dust settled upon the cleanliness

Things turned hazy but in a good way
Post gig we flooded onto the streets of Brixton
And drank the finest foreign beers from an overflowing alehouse
The company was our long-missed men-friends
And yet we still meeting more
As we shared the ingredients to ***** our lungs
They asked for 50 shades of grey in return for rizla
So I rose to the challenge in my half-cut state

This time is was always my intention to wash the weekend down wildly
And starting Thursday this premature session could progress to only place
…the Queens Head
Where dust turned to grime as snapshots of evidence
Prove it was on the credit card that those Jaegar-Bombs were paid
Time and time again
We had become team-mates and it was time I fed them
So we muddled back to my place
Trumpeting our voices through the building
As I served slow roasted pork from glasses
Apparently felt good choice
But next day our melted fingerprints disagree
Our heads also disagree with the antics
And it takes two rounds of tablets to numb the pain

Before later forcing recovery as in Shoreditch we start again
Gathered at Bettys we watched music played
Our rumps rested on armchairs upon the pavement
We continued drinking until the early hours of the day
Then searched for somewhere to take us on the dance floor longer
After only brief grimes of movement and Jaegar
Our night ended abruptly to our dismay
Instead had my first take of kebab
And went north where *** took the night away

Once again woke next morn in bed with man-friend
No memory but surely not in a **** way
Now the skies ******* a mocking mirror of our livers
It seemed a sign to sink further
And the finest ****** Mary led the way
And together sat on sofas we philosophised subjects that we deemed great
Then we ogled sparkly get ups
With prices that we couldn’t afford to pay
So went south to join more friends whose film we met to celebrate

The beginning of the end of madness
Needed cocktails-all we could tolerate
We had formed a tribe of friendship
And we hunted somewhere to prolong the rave
By now all sense of cleanliness long-time washed away
So a downstairs dive provided venue fit for our friendships to extenuate

Then outside met a generous stranger
Who offered tastings that lead our minds astray
Our insides dirtied beyond belief
But sprits high so when we stumbled upon a private party
We were welcome guests to join their birthday

What happened next I needn’t say
For inevitably it had become Sunday
So ***** now we were beyond grey
In wife’s bed I lay
Whilst my insides showed their dismay

This would take some cleaning

Welcome to the stellar season

new passion & new reason

I am reignited

too flamed, I’m heat seeking

Simply motivated

like a *******

Condoms made of confidence

Just in case I **** your mother

I’ve come from the bottomless

I’m higher than the very top

Too high, Upper echelon, ***** I’m Michael Angelo mixed with a Megatron

Phantom of the Op

with a knife that never stops

Chucky in the form of a dope decepticon

looking for a *** of gold like a leprechaun

If I don’t find the gold, then I’ll put the *** in ****

then spark that **** forever long

Confidence & cognac enough to keep me gunning,

cardio to cardiac Arrested for the running

Running of the mouth, running of the mind, I feel too defined

I think I’ve reached a line

Everyday

I write & spit a verse or two

yelling at the sky to see what the universe would do

a science experiment and the catalyst is you

steady battling the truth

Between working that 9 to 5

Or chasing your inner youth

Displacement of bigger visions

Shuffled by rash decisions

Motivation has risen, coupled with work ethic

I want exotics & moments of rarity

My visions clear, I’m surprised by this clarity

The world's changing like moods swings and irregularities

2016 will be the year of efficiency

A strong alliance of motivation and pure ability

Smarter science, enhances ions an durability

Energy streams through my seams like electricity

it feels riveting

I will change my ground like a terraform generator

I know that I’m bound to something that’s much greater

**** all of the hate

******* & the naysayers

onion I am

my mind has many layers

No more dishes served cold

I’m tired of late waiters

I’m a heat-seeking ventilator

Freestyle originator

Here's some cold bars & some beers from my refrigerator

Mastermind incinerator to all of the instigators

Instagram this so you ***** can read it later

No More Procrastinators, haters & ******* decisions makers

I’m bulldozing my way, then rebuilding like path makers

Skillfully shifting ground  

I’m here to tilt the equator

The time to make money

is now

Not later

Negotiations of lame relations are no longer in the equation

I’m on my digital hustle like a roomed packed with 3 Indians & 2 Asians

All coding syntax for an app that automatically takes pictures of random places

Not so C++ Basic, but if you can crack the code then it’s your for the taking

This is the stellar season were motivation is lurking, I’m excited like jive turkey, hand me a biscuit, time to consume then sore like a fly birdie.


my minds sturdy, I’m making sick instrumentals to spit a flow from the mental then simply define worthy.

Just when I felt lost, trying to forget her, you were there to guide me.
When I thought I'd never get that feeling again, you gave it to me.
You reignited a spark in a broken heart. Made me feel whole again.
It took three years since you knew of the way I felt, I began to doubt the possibility of anything ever coming from it.
Yet I am glad it waited until now, the time we needed it most; our last chance.
We were finally honest with one other.
Not with our words but with our actions.
They expressed what I'd been dying to say for a long time.
What I could never muster the courage to speak.
What I hoped deep inside you wished to tell me as well.
You are a best friend, a sister, and a longtime crush.
And you found a way to fix me. Far more than you can imagine.
With a kiss.
With a touch.
Two scarred hearts are now at peace.

passing the torch of love
from one heart to another
touching each
in very different ways
witnessing the shrinking
of the flame
before each passing
having it reignited
by a new hand
dimming when the new
becomes old
and always
searching endlessly
   for the eternal fuel.

At  a music festival
Among sixty thousand others
I managed to spot you

We both knew the other
Would be here,
But figured there'd be
Too many people,
Too large of a crowd
And not enough cell phone
Service to go around,
To bother trying to find the other
Especially since we haven't spoken
Since, well,
                                           you know

      But here you are.

Eight rows of people ahead
Through the most perfectly spaced gap
I spot your face
Turned slightly to the right
Of where I am standing

I watch you laugh at what
A friend behind you said
You cut your hair
just the way I like it
And your smile still
Makes me go weak at the knees

It's this moment that people write books about, paint pictures of, this moment filmmakers write whole screenplays revolving around

Where two people make eye contact from across a crowd, and instantly the spark is ignited, or reignited, and their fate is written, the opening to their love story that, without their control, is set in stone, perfectly planned out stepping stones that lead to happily ever after

But you never turned my way
And we never made eye contact
And my text that said
I see you! :)
Didn't go through until
Hours later

I guess this wasn't our moment.  
                                 our relapse
                                 our love story.

                                                         I guess this means
                                                         we really are not
                                                  m  e  a  n  t   t  o   b  e

Tell the tale of a girl once bold
Singing songs about a heart once cold
Hearing heaven with every breath she takes
Praying the next time her heart won't break
She will tell you that she is okay
That she's getting through her day to day
See the lining of red in her eyes
See the truth although she denies she cries

Listen to each dream that she whispers silently
The story present past the eery quiet sea
Looking for not just a lover, but a friend
See the beginning in her eyes and pray from a happy end
Respect the words that come from her heart
Know her brand is a work of art
Find the fairy tale and the reality
See her and the beautiful tragedy

Pray someday it will be a story from long ago
That hearts will be reignited and melt the chilling snow
That she will love with love that won't let go
And that heaven will bring to the rain a colorful bow
Tell the tale of a girl once bold
Singing songs of a heart once cold
Hearing heaven with every breath she takes
Praying the next time her heart won't break

playing the ***** at a puppet cocktail party
couldn’t be an easier audience
but my check is still in the mail

saving a skinny woman with chest compressions
single-handedly so-to-speak
i wasn’t alone but i’ll take the credit
the others were weak, i was going heavy
and that’s when she came back

resurrecting my villain for the TV series Heroineburgh
an afternoon shoot with 3 young ladies in tight spandex
acting!

saving another woman with team compressions
went on for 60 minutes before her heart reignited
a christmas miracle
though i unplugged her 2 days later
continuous seizures

getting 3 of my 4 bands on one compilation
that and a quarter would give me a quarter

falling off my bike twice in 5 minutes
car ran a red light, then got doored in the bike lane
today was the first day my sprained wrist allowed pushups
(helps with those chest compressions)

making a money hat for the video i’m shooting for the Dumplings
they’re the Rolling Stones of my favorite bar

went to a hypnotist at the Fringe Fest
failing to get hyponotized
"you were obviously resisting," said my wife
i don’t know
i think i’m just obviously me

playing my ***** on a movie stage
for 8 second segments with the movie
don’t ask
we made $96 and bought tacos for $95

now i’m listening to my swinging new louis prima album
reflecting on this groovy month of spring

On a chilly day of vacant skies
we came to watch the candle rise
by morning sun it took to flight
so men and the heavens could unite

But, our sons and daughters, strong and brave
were too far gone for us to save
there was no time to shed a tear
or give a cry we'd never hear

Across the land the people wept
for hopes and dreams that won't be kept
with ships and men we reach for stars
with blood and tears we mend the scars

But, there'll be a time when the tears are gone
and at that time we must move on
and allow our dreams to be reignited
for Man and Heaven have united.

maybe it was the light reflecting off the water that made it all feel surreal
the long drive the slow dive
the weight of unspoken want
we shed our clothes and bore our skin out into the night air
and we told you not to look knowing full well that you would anyway
but anyway
here's another night spent in proximity to another life
secreted away in city lights and manufactured stars
you lifted me over the fence just to carry me until morning light
pale
open
blunt.
vulnerable in the dark water
flash junk imagery of your hands on my waist
gold and black and crystalline in the low light from the parking lot
your visual stimulation an ever present hum in the background of the moment
we broke in just to break out of routine
six of us small thin and brittle in exposure
connected by the weight of unspoken want
just don't leave it for too long
and I told you not to knowing that you would
you looked and I fell and they laughed knowing it was the slow burn all along
and I know that on the ride home you'll wait for glimpses of my figure illuminated by break lights
and that I'll search for your arms in the darkened car
but for now it's the light reflecting off the water
and your iconic longing
the type that sets a lover into eternity in photographs and sighs
thin wrists and thighs
this is the long drive and the slow dive
and six feet under isn't so scary in a swimming pool
dark blue and numbing the weight fades away only to resurface along the arch of my spine
reignited by your hands cautious and thin
and the waves tumble in
reckless son sick coughing up blood like I need this
nervous soul set alight in the waining darkness
you'll catch me before they catch us
and I'll be the first to confess
that it was the weight all along
exposed and half dressed faded in the wave pool
the long drive the slow dive
the weight of want in your arms.

There was MM.
He awoke the waiting ****** being that was hidden below Southern rules and tradition. With a touch and a release of pressure and tension he unleashed an alter like no other. But he treated me like his personal plaything, a discarded shirt, an afterthought. So I let him go.

There was OA.
He reignited the spark extinguished in the aftermath of MM. Gave me the beauty of motherhood that I was told I'd never have. But he proceeded to leave us for an easy life and for the sights and sounds of big city living. So I let him go.

There was CJ.
He made the apples of my cheeks burn underneath my caramel brown skin. Filled me with a love that I had read about in copious amounts of books. But then came his mother wielding her rumors and I lost most of my hair and had to be put back on the zombie meds. So I let him go.

There was AB.
He gave me time and my passion came back full force. He gave me breakfast in bed among crumpled sheets from nights spent devouring each other with pure, unabashed lust. But people came along with their lies and jealousy. So I let him go.

There IS CK.
He came in like a meteor, crashing into planet Me with such force it knocked me off my feet and into his whole being. Friendship came and solidified our bond. Age didn't matter and neither did any of the world's oppressing views. People came again. So we let each other go, but the bond remains.

My heart will ache
Will twist up in pain
For everyday
I cannot hug you
For each kiss I cannot
Plant upon your lips
My heart will yearn
Only to be left
Unsatisfied
To be without you
Yet another miserable moment
For each second
Each moment
That you aren't with me
Know I love you
Know that no matter what I'm yours
Never give up
Because summer will end
And our love will be reignited.