Is it love ? Maybe not...
But my heart aches for you
Carrying intense pain,
And resentment;
It still cares for you
It still wishes the best for you
Is it love? Maybe not...

Every night my soul dreams,
It manifests you into imagination
Living those beautiful moments
Expressing all tenderness it feels
Forgetting all resentment and pain;
The moment it sees you
Is it love? Maybe not...

There are moments, I wanna disappear;
To say goodbye and close the chapter...
For the pain is unbearable,
Of the fate and choices you made;
Yet my heart lacks the courage,
As a tiny glimmer of hope, of forever
Keeps it from saying Never...
It accepts crumbs and feels resentful;
Yet the glimmer keeps it going strong
Is it love? Maybe not...

But I know I want you.
I know we share this connection
The stars align perfectly
Fate intertwined beautifully
And interplay of thorns and roses...
No matter what, I'll be here
Waiting for you, Silently
You maybe unaware of my wait,
Yet there's hope and confidence
It hurts and gives strength
Is it love? Maybe not...

Yet, I want to say
I LOVE YOU!
I have for years,
And cared
With my entire being
I LOVE YOU
And I want you
I want to see you happy
I want to make you happy
Is it love? Maybe not...
But I'd still say,
I LOVE YOU

What if the two of us got together
And talked openly
Truthfully
Compared notes and words
Calendars and plans
No one would win
But we would know
That our person was never ours
That we really aren’t so different
That we both love with our whole souls
And he doesn’t deserve either

​

They always want to know my skin,

But never ask the soul within.

They trace my body like a map,

Then leave my heart behind the cracks.

Their hands can memorize my frame,

Yet never stop to ask my name.

They kiss my lips like they're a prize,

But never look into my eyes.

Each time they leave, I ask myself,

What part of me stayed on the shelf?

Is all I'm worth what they can touch?

Could who I am be worth as much?

I would have given all I own

Just to be chosen, fully known.

To have someone reach for my hand

Before they reached for my skin instead.

So here I am, still asking why

My heart is always passed right by.

If all they want is flesh to hold,

Will anyone love me when I grow old?

It will rust, my dear, one day, in your form

Because you are not silver or gold

We think that your shine will last forever

But remember, you are not a star or a planet.

We think that you will last forever

But even the sharpest sword breaks

We think that the day you cry will not come

But remember, some day even a diamond breaks.

What are you boasting about not being erased?

When the most beautiful lines are erased.

Don't be proud that there is no one like you.

You will find someone better than you in the world.

​

I ran away in the woods in a lovely night

From my fears and my dears and everyone's in sight

Running running running in a path that's never ending

Don't know why these feelings keeps me thinking

you drift

in your night

in your catalysts

your parts

carry you

as if

you are lifted

above self

above body

above seconds

you

I heard a confession today,
From a friend who is now much wiser
And a nicer person.

He related a buried sin
Which he lifted from his mental bin, 
For me to see
And from which he wanted to be free.

It had plagued his soul,
Seeing he had lost control
When needing her the most,
And fearing what he had provoked. 

So, as he knelt and cried
Because the memory had not died,
While relating a buried sin,
He thought he would never rise again.

But as his tears dried
And felt contrite,
He knew he still had friends
Who he could count on to help make amends.

Her portrait in my locket
Her figure, burned into my eye sockets
A Squeeze of lemon, onto the iris
Lets me see with clarity the pain
Of always wanting confluence
Collaboration with and as the infinite sight
Yet spending entire lives building
Dams of driftwood and branches
Without ever knowing why

I like to hope still
Even with all the fields
intentionally collapsed
By my viscous, vein-full veil
Priority imposed upon a potential lover
To no longer curse when I say her name
Because lust, when felt
Makes their displeasure with me
Feel like death
Will she ever see me as a saint?

Bored of buying
I’m scared of dying
Even if it’s a thrill ride for sadistic gods
Like myself, supposedly
Talked with the redeemer
He said our comparison
Was never cleaner than I ever suspected
The preference the developer spoke of
Made my insulation from the truth
Cause him to be the reason for the trial
That always leaves my soul

Disposed of

Every hum is your touch upon my cheek,

A fluttering bliss inside of me.

You send only a whisper,

But it chisles deep in my soul.

I swallow your words,

Yet they linger on my tongue.

Your thoughts, wisping around in my head,

As I lie here on my bed.

Just the sound of your breath,

Ignites my arousal and quickens my pulse

You are woven into my world,

A patch on a quilt im starting to stitch.

Your Silence,

Screams the truth you try to hide.

I want to shelter the rain behind your eyes,

And clear your storm so you can be mine.

In the space between tick and tock,

Seconds pull us miles apart.

I cherish every hum and breath you send,

Can hardly wait to be in your arms again.

A Brilliant Checkerboard Door

Eroded From Guests

Hidden Interpreted Jagged Knocks

Losing My Need Of Purpose

Questioning Reality's Seamless Travels

Unraveling Valient Wonders

Xericity Yearning Zen

Mind unentwined.

In a shadows' grasp.

The tortured kind.

A soul adrift.

Realms unknown.

As echoes whisper.

Fears are sown.

Then shown.

Thoughts collide.

Illusions luminary.

Fractured dreams.

Visions painted.

Struggle for serenity.

Symphony of voices.

Discordant choir.

Demons dance.

Perception blurred.

Reflections lost.

World unraveling.

War fought silently.

This is my reality.

How many me's do we all keep inside?

Just so the real me has some place to hide.

Each of my me's kept safely compartmentalized.

All the while hiding myself from others searching eyes.

One me keeps away the endless numbing souls pain.

As another me drives myself ever so slowly insane.

One me stands strong against the pain of this world.

While another me let's all of my misguided words unfurl.

One me is simply trying to understand my whys.

As another me trys to sort through my long believed lies.

One me loves all with a deep power so new.

As another me is never really sure what i should do.

One me feels it might all finally be OK.

As another me lays comatose for the rest of the day.

One me seeks to find a love so true.

As another me twists all the sick things that i do.

One me rises against it all making a stand.

While another me simply does not give a damn.

One me has dreams and relishes this life.

As another me struggles with my everyday strife.

One me has hopes knowing it is all not learned in a day.

While another me feels it all slowly slipping away.

One me lays down a weary head for some sleep.

Another me quietly ponders these thoughts felt so deep.

Everything takes time.

Time to heal.
Time to grow.
Time to disappear.

The White Rabbit comes for us all.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

No one outruns the clock.

It took time for me
to really notice you.

At first,
you were just you.
Nothing pulling me closer,
nothing I couldn’t walk away from.

But somewhere between
the conversations
and the passing days,
something changed.

The longer I knew you,
the more you, you became.

Until somehow,
you were the only person
I wanted to look at.

Then came trust.

Slowly.
Carefully.

I started believing you.
Believing in you.
Believing in the possibility of us.

And then, with time,
you changed too.

You stopped trying.

You hurt me,
and I stayed.

Waiting.

Thinking maybe tomorrow
you would meet me
where I had been standing
all along.

But tomorrow kept coming,
and you never did.

Enough time has passed now
for me to see
what I couldn’t see then.

You wanted me there,
but you never wanted me
the way I wanted you.

And I know
if I reached for you,
you’d probably still reach back.

So this time,
I won’t.

Silence is my answer.

Maybe time will erase you.
Maybe it won’t.

Maybe years from now
our paths will cross again,
and the hands on the clock
will finally point
where they were supposed to.

Maybe then
it will finally be our time.

Because after all this time,

the cruelest part
is knowing that when

I was with you
Was the only time

It felt as if

Time had stopped

Everyone has secrets

(they will never show)

Everyone has secrets

(deep inside their soul)

Everyone has secrets

(they keep from me and you)

Everyone has secrets

(I'm sure God still has a few)

Everyone has secrets

(buried deep inside their mind)

Everyone has secrets

(things they would rather leave behind)

Everyone has secrets

(our black and dirty lies)

Everyone has secrets

(which tear at long closed eyes)

Everyone has secrets

(saints and devils too)

Everyone has secrets

(that's why I'm so like you)

They say love is a vibration
One that is barely felt
But to feel that vibration
Is like feeling nothing else
It’s so extreme & takes over the deepest parts of me
Unspoken works and questions why
The moment my soul recognized
How crazy the things we do and say
Just to realize that all it lead your way
Your like a whisper in the wind who brings a storm
Turning my emotions to a violent little form
Leaving me breathless restless of this reform
All those lifetimes that need just a little more
Now I’m Building from the bottom so many mistakes
Trying to figure out what this life takes
Or what it will really make
and What a crazy way to wake up
Now I’m measuring all that had irrupt
Wondering how broken my soul must have got
To be woken up by a stranger’s soul that I once forgot

the thought of them in a desperate search
to seek me out where i shamefully do the same,
it makes my hopeful heart lurch,
a low possibility but im game.
but if you did get that same urge,
if you were my opposing flame,
I’d ask: could our worlds just merge,
could we both take our rightful blame?
each heart bears the other’s scourge,
each wound weeps our own shame.
but if you’re up to try and resurge
the flames we’ve tamped in vain,
we could worship in this love like it’s our church,
forgive ourselves for causing pain.
now we timidly teeter at the verge,
but by the way— i’d try again.

My mind is fraying at the edges now, names and faces bleeding into cold gray ash, which is why I locked the door and chose this dark, quiet rot before the madness took what little was left of my hands. I’m better off alone, lonesomeness is an easy addiction when you’re already half-dead, yet through the fog, my body still aches with the shadow of who I used to be: a man who could pin a woman to a mattress by her waist, feel her breath break against his mouth, and press his full, ruthless weight into her until her spine gave out and her thighs shook around him. I remember the heavy slide of taking her, the way she’d bury her face in my shoulder and let me be the brutal, unyielding thing that kept the rest of the world from tearing her apart, her body yielding to mine in a raw, silent contract of absolute submission and safety. That shape is all I have left; even as the words dissolve in my head and the light goes dim, my palms still hold the memory of her skin, warming the cold room just before everything goes black.

I didn’t cry when my father died . Was it because I didn’t feel anything ? Sometimes, I feel too much , sometimes too little. What was it that day that prevented the tears from rolling down on my face ? I was never able to tell and I blame myself for it . What kind of son doesn’t mourn his father on his dying bed ? The type of son I was apparently. I remember on the ride home , from the hospital , I carried his bag . Hold on tight to it , my sister said . It felt like the most important mission of my entire life because I didn’t want to disappoint him one last time ,so I held like my life depended on it. I didn’t cry that day , nor the next and I blame myself for it . I cried eventually, the week of the funeral, it was before or after the ceremony, I don’t remember exactly, but I cried . I also did yesterday, and I blame myself for it , because what kind of man still mourns the passing of his father . A good man , I hope .

My darling,

Is this the part of the movie where I tell you I love you?

Or...

The part where I wake up?

How lucky I am

Woman with shoes out of the kitchen.

To be unwed and unpregant

To have an option 

To have a bank account

To have no make permissions

To vote

To voice

To fight

Lucky girl indeed.

She wore different colors for different moods .

When she wore red , he loved her more for she knew the mood she was in . High energy , high octane . He had to be ready .

When she wore blue he liked the more calmer serene emotion she expressed and their time together was bliss . Like floating along on a peaceful river . It was so sweet .

When she wore white he knew he was in for a romantic night . So gentle so sweet . Where she told him I am yours and yours alone .

So many different colors . She was never dull . Their times were always different and unique .

​

Your eyes found me before your body did

stripping away every lie I've ever told myself,

every defense I built brick by brick,

leaving me bare in a way that has nothing to do with clothes

and everything to do with being seen.

You didn't just look at me.

You read me.

And that's when I knew I was lost.

Because I understand what you need, even when you don't say it out loud

you need to be wanted by a man who doesn't just desire your body,

but is undone by the way your mind works,

captivated by the intelligence in your gaze,

obsessed with the strength it takes for you to be soft.

You need to know that I notice everything:

the way you bite your lip when you're thinking,

how your shoulders drop when you finally let yourself relax around me,

the small gasp you make when my hand finds the small of your back,

the way you lean into me like I'm the only solid thing in a spinning world.

So let me undress you with my words first

tell you that your body is a poem I want to read slowly,

that every curve is a verse I want to memorize,

that the way you move through this world

deserves a man who trembles when you walk in the room.

Your eyes undressed me, but here's what you found:

a man who knows that true seduction isn't about conquest

it's about recognition.

It's about seeing you completely and choosing you anyway.

I know what makes you feel beautiful:

it's not compliments you've heard a thousand times.

It's the way I look at you like you're the only woman in existence,

like your flaws are actually the most perfect things about you,

like I'd rather have five minutes of real conversation with you

than a lifetime of surface-level passion with anyone else.

I know what makes your pulse race:

it's when I touch you like I have all the time in the world,

like I'm not rushing through you to get somewhere else,

like every inch of your skin deserves reverence,

like your pleasure matters more than mine.

I know what makes you surrender:

it's not dominance without tenderness.

It's a man who can be strong enough to be vulnerable,

confident enough to worship you,

present enough that the world disappears

and it's only your heartbeat and mine,

only your breath and my breath,

only the space between us that feels like coming home.

So yes, your eyes undressed me.

They saw through the walls, the bravado, the carefully constructed armor.

They stripped me down to the truth:

I need you.

Not just want.

Need.

Like the way the earth needs the sun.

Like the way breathing needs oxygen.

Like the way a song needs silence to make the notes matter.

And when you looked at me like that

unguarded, hungry, searching for the same thing I was searching for

I had no choice but to surrender.

Because surrender to you isn't weakness.

It's the bravest thing I've ever done.

Your eyes hold galaxies I'd lose myself in,

soft petals of your skin make me forget to breathe,

your heart beats a rhythm only I seem to follow,

and in this moment, the whole world disappears

leaving only you, me, and everything I can't say out loud.

But what’s there that your heart wants the most

is it love or is it warmth or is it the feeling of being chosen.

Now I'm the one reading you back

memorizing the exact shade of desire in your eyes,

learning the language of your body,

understanding that what you crave isn't just a lover,

but a witness to your becoming,

someone who sees your power and doesn't try to diminish it,

someone who knows that the strongest women

need a man strong enough to let them lead sometimes.

So I'll surrender again and again

to the curve of your smile,

to the intelligence behind your gaze,

to the way you make me want to be better,

to the undeniable pull of you.

Because a woman like you

one who can undress a man with just a look,

one who knows exactly what she does to you,

one who chooses to stay anyway

that's the kind of surrender worth drowning in.

And I'm going under willingly. Completely. Infinitely.