One, Two, Three

Take One.
You’ll never know,
the way the thought of you
envelops my everything.

Take Two.
You’ll always know,
the way you left me
standing waiting.

Take Three.
How do I move on
from how stuck I am
to you.

One of Us

It gets easier with each look,
I could get lost forever
within each glance.
It has been produced with our words,
and have become unaware,
of each surrounding.
It becomes satisfying with each kiss
sweeter than the last,
until sleep calls for us,
curled and knotted between the sheets.

Awake we mock and taunt,
between our grasps and gasps
with questions floating above,
never answered.
Minutes run into hours
as neither possesses the need,
to leave the warmth.

It gets harder with each minute,
I want to stay long past forever.
Yet with a simple kiss,
We say our farewells
until we wake in the mists of home.
And to when our connection reunites,
each nerve lessens,
tensions dwindle
and my words mean no more.

I Won’t

I need that moment,
Where the thoughts,
the memories,
and the feelings
are washed away.

I need the realization,
That every touch,
every kiss,
and every word
was a lie.

I need to,
I want to,
I can’t.

I need the feeling,
That I haven’t wasted
every minute,
every hour,
and every day
on you.

Forget

I asked for no end,
No hurt and no pain.
I wished and I prayed,
That this wasn’t just temporary.

The beginning seemed,
Long and joyful.
But as gossip kills friends,
It raped the beginning,
And gave it an end.

The tears now puddle,
and soak in the sheets.
Forgetting the start,
And letting it end…
You can not receive the sweet,
Without the salty sweat of pain.

Remember my words,
Dear as they can be.
As long as you are happy,
It is what matters.
Forget about me,
As horrible I am.
As long as you are happy,
I am not what matters.

Bouquet of Rejections

Arrangement of days
become arrangements of rejections
One after another,
I am cast last place
Once again.
Rejected by the people I care for,
the communities I yearn for,
the places I feel most comfortable.

They feel bad for me,
They give me their pity
This I do not wish.
Can’t I just be,
Without all this worry.

I receive the bouquet of rejections
With a bouquet of “Let us rub it in your face”
Keep them to yourselves and let me be
Happy in my own little world.
I can keep my peace…
And I pity those who pity me

To You

I don’t know your name,
your eyes, your lips or your personality.
I have never seen your nose,
your hands, your feet or your laugh.
And yet I wait for you.

Wait for the moment
That I’ll run across your words
your cheeks, your chin or your arms.
Bump into your chest,
your back, your brain or your embrace.

When is it my second,
to move from my corner
to yours.
When is it my minute
to step from my room
to yours.
When is it my hour
to shift from him
to you.

Time

It is more than what I can take,
The ease as to how he moves.
Perpetual movements.
Long strides,
Short lunges.
Where is the time?

It is similar to what I imagine,
The thoughts from his mind.
Endless form.
Fast Sass,
Slow flow.
Where is the time?

It is nothing without you,
The moments alone.
Constant pattern.
Considerable,
Minuscule.
Where is the time?

Yet

Boldly Blackened Beating,
By just the look,
Yet a smile
Creates my hysteria.

Shivered Shame Succumbed,
At every corner,
Yet a smile
Designs my logic.

Perception edged through,
My boulevard of innocence,
Submerged long past our era.
Yet a smile
Is the composition of
Every
Little
Detail.

Gates

The tears flooded my eyes,
They take away the sparkle,
The smile.
The gates of my nightmares
Have leaked out my secrets
and kept me teary.

Let my river flow,
With no interruptions.
The rocks sink to the bottom
Never quite reach the top
To stop
The drops from flooding.

The river begins every time
You step into my thoughts,
and you linger there
Just to haunt me
To tease me
To displease.
Keep those gates open,
Keep the tears flowing.

Moments of You

Slowly I am removing you
From your prestigious pedestal
That I have subconsciously
Placed you upon.

Please tread carefully,
My heart is scattered and smeared
Across my fleeting floor.
Millions of pieces
Each with an edge
Sharpened by a promise.

I’m afraid you won’t make it
Past the first few steps
Without leaving behind
Moments of you within them.

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