I had the most foreign dream last night. Foreign in the sense that I don’t even recall ever feeling such sentiments in real life. He was there next to me, and it was just our normal day of playing silly games together and competing with one another. Only there was a lingering awareness of the fact that we weren’t supposed to be with each other, even innocently. We weren’t even supposed to be in this particular place. As the day came to a end, I’m not quite sure what came over me. I didn’t want anything from him, not his love or his lust. I just didn’t want him to leave and I knew he had similar thoughts running through his mind. And so, wordlessly, without even the slightest form of communication, we both went to bed. We were lying so close to each other that I could feel his warm breath in my hair, and he could still catch what was left of my fragrance from earlier on in the day. The moment was beautiful and filled my heart to the brim; I realized that this was all I wanted, this closeness and familiarity. For once his facial expressions were serious, leaving no trace of his perpetual laugh lines. He refused to open his mouth, and was conveying a message to me with his eyes instead. And those eyes suddenly struck fear in me as I understood that we were something quite powerful and truthful in that moment. We were the only ones who could fill the voids in each other’s hearts in such a way. I leaned my head down towards your neck, and in that tender movement, I allowed myself to drown in this essence of you that I have never known before.

Her Natural Effects

For you, she is simply all aspects of nature.
She is the storm that can sway your resolve,
Arriving unexpectedly, but with such a force that
You cannot help but give into her essence entirely.
She is the gentle breeze that emerges at daybreak.
Caressing your face with a divine tenderness, and
Stirring sentiments that you never knew existed.
She is the desert sun that watches you from the sky
While you attempt to escape from her sultriness,
As she dries your throat and renders you speechless.
She is, dearly beloved, the only one
Who can make flowers bloom
In the barren soils of your heart.

We Are Still …

I thought it was you, but I waved it off.
It’s rainy and I can’t see much.
Maybe it’s the sound of rain
That makes me want to see you again.
But as I opt to stand on the bus,
You do, too.
There are empty seats and yet, you stand.
With me.
As I casually glimpse at you,
To confirm your face,
The shock of recognizing you is minimal.
Almost expected.
Shoulder to shoulder and
I’m already forgetting that it’s cold and pouring.
There’s a slight warmth with you there,
But it’s not poetic; There’s no poetry
I’m writing this with difficulty and
There’s still no poetry
Our eyes stealing glances at once another,
It’s such a gentle sadness.
A faded longing.
Six years and our paths are still intertwined.
Our bodies have aged, but we are still
The same cowards we’ve always been.
Suddenly, I find myself full of questions,
But unwilling to hear your answers.
There is still affection lingering in our hearts,
And your existence renews old sentiments.
I’m not afraid, I’m not worried.
Our unspoken language strangely calms me.
You leave, and your parting figure
Means nothing to me.
I’d like to believe that it does,
But time is telling me otherwise.
However,
I really do wonder
What you are thinking.
After all these years,
Have you still not understood me?

I can gaze up at the sky and watch
A phenomenon of tears rain down.
They are the fragments of shattered dreams,
Stabbing the earth,
Painting an incomplete picture.
Somewhere among this chaos and calamity,
A shard of innocence is blooming. 

Waging war within yourself
Is an endless struggle.
Here, in our land of disbelief,
It is infinitely easier to close your eyes
And follow the footsteps of the fallen.

The best choices are made

At the end of a dark season

Like a leaf swept away from its origins,

I have lost my resolve.

My poetry to you

Is an empty story of pretty words

Just who are you angry at?
Your words spitting venom, 
They don’t shame my heart.
Listening to the silence of words unsaid,
Your symphony of shattered dreams.
Is this why you’ve lost control?
Afraid of what this may become, 
As if anything can become less than 
The standard line of misery.
As the seasons change, 
It seems your anger blooms with the rising spring.
There is not much I can see nor comprehend, 
In your jaded eyes.
I am far too used to this undying solitude, 
I rather much prefer it.

Your cold lips have entered the scene.
One heart, two hands
While one hand reaches for mine,
The other is clenched at your side.
Where are we heading, dear? 
To the pits of despair, my love.
This is enough for me,
I will follow you to Hell if that is your destination
But wait, this is not my thinking; 
These are not my thoughts nor my emotions
The storm is just beginning
And I have to stay.

A Universal Signal for the Weak

Shards of memories,
On each of her pages.
Written and rewritten,
To the point where meaning is lost.
Whispers of a life of passion;
A doorway left half open.
Despair, among other things,
Are reflected in your eyes this night.
A universal signal for the weak:
Heed the warnings of the fallen.
Those robbed of happiness,
Seek it in unfamiliar forms.
A kiss with complexity
That transcends the cosmos.
Comfort the one whose raven hair
Serves to blend her into the night.
A universal signal for the weak:
You’ve fallen into her embrace
If you fall any farther, you will enter
The place where meaning is lost:
Her diary of fragments and shadows.

More old poetry

I watched you descend,
Your figure formed,
And longing erupted from my heart.
Stuck in my throat, these feelings 
That will never reach you.
Tell me, when you think of me,
What comes to mind?
You are not one I should admire,
But the warmth of your presence
Is enough.
Sing a note, whisper a tale.
Enchant my soul for a short while.
Until I plunge into reality.
And we return to our bodies.

A sharp intake of breath.
We’ve begun to pass the line 
We drew for ourselves.
Somewhere on this earth,
An innocent laughter will be heard.
Soft shades of blue,
The gentle sound of fading footsteps.
Wont you just once
Love me on this night?

A simple poem I wrote 4 years ago, since I have bad writer’s block right now

Time hardly moves to our preference
But the spark in your eyes is telling me otherwise
Lifting your heart to the seeds of tomorrow,
What exactly is it that you expected?

Defiance is beginning to fall into my description of “acceptable”
But losing sight of the moon doesn’t mean that we have lost just yet.
Experience the warmth, embrace the wind.
Even you, who have fallen will rise again.

Blaze, defined, the fire of your memories is burning brighter.
So why is this blast breaking down my mind?
We can hardly see the light now, we can just barely breathe.
Being chained to the days of our demise leaves nothing left for us to offer.

Locking the door one last time, you abandon your sanctuary.
The key that was thrown away is somehow within my reach.
It fits perfectly into the lock; the familiar click is heard.
Even so, the door is unwilling to give way to my intentions.

Speaking softly, hardly making noise
Makes all the difference
Even if you turn away
I will continue to listen for your footsteps
Until the day that I can walk beside you.