With a voice so eerie,
That the nubs of my nipples
And ends of my hair stand on
And the chill of nostalgia snakes
up my spine,
You’ll whisper in my ear like a
That nightly spell,
In the witching hour.
“I love you.”
Sucking the air out the room.
With a feeling that’s stills time.
Some passion is so strong.
It’s surpasses, past, present, and
Creates its own eternity of
It never leaves.
And everyone that walked into it’s wormhole.
Like I was stricken.
Your invasion is a deadly force I’m haunted by.
Day and night.
There is no description for your love blanketing around me.
Except that it has melted the winter of my life.
All the cruelty has been kissed to kindness.
And I can’t remember anything but compassion.
Anything but wanting to love you as fair as you love me.
Your love is like healing.
Your love is like hoping.
Your love is living life anew.
There’s not much keeping me tied to this earth, but gravity.
If you love someone,
You don’t pick at their wounds,
You try to help them heal.
I want to turn all the time I spent on feeling lonely into feeling empowered and accomplished.
I want to rediscover and create myself.
There is whole world inside of me that I’ve yet to discover.
And I don’t why I’ve spent so much time putting it off.
But now every moment I’m not spending being happy, I want to at least try to transform into happiness, any way I can.
I don’t always know how to be with myself.
But I want to learn.
God is in the gentle curve of your smile,
In the loosening of your shoulders,
The sigh and sag of your body.
Divinity is in your tenderness.
Your face caressing my face, the way silk sheets run off hot soft skin.
In the crack of your voice when it hums into a groan.
A pantheon is made of the rising and falling timbres of your laughter.
You are an engulfing wonder.
Swallowing all in your midst, without the slightest hint to fathom.
And so gracefully,
Your eyes could sway death to retire.
You’ve crucified and resurrected me relentlessly with the slightest glance.
You haven’t the faintest.
And you wouldn’t want to if you could.
It all means nothing to you.
To do things so magnificently, as you do.
-I suppose for a God, to note such things would to be linger on the mediocre.
Greatness is so ordinary to you.
I’m so exhausting to be around.
So exhausting, heavy like 600 hundred pounds.
Everyone runs the other way.
When my looks lose their stay.
And I can’t judge them not a lick.
I’m the type of person I tend to
I hate that I think of you.
Nothing but you in the long silences.
Bludgeoning myself to death.
Measuring myself worth by your touch.
And I can’t even blame you,
not at all.
This is all my fault.
Filling my mouth with Buddhist chants.
Stuffing my head with silent meditations.
Trying to silence the madness.
It’s not going anywhere,
Then the rolling crash.
Wonder where you were last.
Why must I be so insecure.
My sanity lost in a blur.
Everything is out of reach.
And I’m in the middle, marooned on this island is me.
I can’t recognize anything,
I look so tired, I’m wasting.
For the wholeness I’m craving.
Not even self love can fill me
So far out of love, deserted in my rut.
Maya once said,
Something simple but evident
“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
The more you show it.
The more I’m starting to listen.
So stop asking why I’m so
I’m full with the void that you
created in your absence.
I’m the last thing in your world.
And I’m fading.
On times hand
Did I fall and land
An hour late
And still I wait
Ever so patient
And ever so quaint
You must have fallen sick
I defend in your wake
One day, two day
Four day, three
Oh how easy
In love, to make a fool of me.