I want to write poetry about you. Countless line one after the other poetry about your skin. Poetry about your laugh or that gleam in your eye when you've thought up something clever but will not share with the world.
I want to write poetry about how my heart belongs to you. About how no matter what I do you are the first and last thing I think of. I want to write poetry about how alive I feel just by sitting next to you and how afraid I am to have my heart broken again
I want to write poetry about our future. Poetry about how we will hold hands as we watch our children play. Poetry about how I'll look out the window from the home that we share and smile because this is really our life.
I want to write poetry about our love making. About our bodies pressed into each other. The increase of heart beats. The anticipation of climax. About how your wetness floods my hand with every movement
I want to write poetry about our oneness. About how the connection shared between us is so fragile yet so strong. I want to write poetry about your lips how they curve so gently into a smile. I want to write poetry about the sway of your hips about the the stories they tell as you dance to your favorite songs. I want to write about how you unravel me. About how when we're together the rest of the world disappears. I want to write poetry about the way you are able to give me the entire world and then take it all away.
I want to write poetry about how you've broken my heart and how I allow you to do it over and over again. I want to write poetry about dreams, my dreams, your dreams, our dreams....
But all of that seems so far away from the truth. So far away from the reality of our lives. Two thousand miles away I sit alone wondering why I cannot write this poetry. Why I cannot bring myself to create similes and metaphors of our love. You've drifted to far into the void. You have pushed me away to a place where poetry doesn't exist where the only thing left is to pick up the pieces of my heart and haphazardly glue them into place.
Everything is a blur these days. A blur of wondering if I will ever find myself again. Find myself not caught in the gravity of your light. I can't help myself. I can't help that my heart is tethered to you even though you've done everything you can to untie me. I am caught in this moment of helplessness and you are there two thousand miles away pushing through to forget who I am, to forget our life together.
All of this seems silly as I type... Silly because I know better. You will not find someone better than me. I am not saying this to feel good about myself it is the plain truth. No one will love you and treat you the way I have. I will be the one who got away. As I slowly rebuild my life brick by brick I will learn that I need someone in my life who isn't afraid to love, who isn't afraid of the love I have to give. At the end of the day I know my heart is true. I know that no matter what happens my heart is pure and was pure in the way I loved you.
6.21.2011
4.15.2010
hello...hello...you called
inspiration knocks on my door
"excuse me miss but i think you've lost your way."
i nod in silence... nothing
yet everything is pointing me in the direction
of what i have always known to be true
language... these letters scrolling across this infinite screen of light.......language
is the place in which
i find myself
i know i know i k....n...o...w...
we've heard it all before, haven't we?
we are all writers, aren't we?
but the truth is
language breathes into me
the words they fall from the sky
shattering upon the pavement, glass mosaics
of what could be and what could have been
so you wonder... and so i write....
to find myself but beyond that to find
to find you
to find what it is we are all searching for
but the words they come as apparitions
silken shadows, silhouettes
hiding behind your fears and my fears
here is the moment where you
jump
from that cliff, close your eyes
and see that the free fall is where it all begins
be not afraid of what you do not know
or feel or touch
or better yet
take that fear and embrace it
take it into your arms and show that fear
you accept
but you do not resign because
that fear is miniscule when compared with
your light
your love
your POWER
fear and hate are four letter words
but then again so is love....
where does that leave you and i?
back to the beginning
or is it the end?
inspiration it knocks on my door
when the moon is half on its back
reminding me that
everything and nothing
walk hand in hand
"excuse me miss but i think you've lost your way."
i nod in silence... nothing
yet everything is pointing me in the direction
of what i have always known to be true
language... these letters scrolling across this infinite screen of light.......language
is the place in which
i find myself
i know i know i k....n...o...w...
we've heard it all before, haven't we?
we are all writers, aren't we?
but the truth is
language breathes into me
the words they fall from the sky
shattering upon the pavement, glass mosaics
of what could be and what could have been
so you wonder... and so i write....
to find myself but beyond that to find
to find you
to find what it is we are all searching for
but the words they come as apparitions
silken shadows, silhouettes
hiding behind your fears and my fears
here is the moment where you
jump
from that cliff, close your eyes
and see that the free fall is where it all begins
be not afraid of what you do not know
or feel or touch
or better yet
take that fear and embrace it
take it into your arms and show that fear
you accept
but you do not resign because
that fear is miniscule when compared with
your light
your love
your POWER
fear and hate are four letter words
but then again so is love....
where does that leave you and i?
back to the beginning
or is it the end?
inspiration it knocks on my door
when the moon is half on its back
reminding me that
everything and nothing
walk hand in hand
12.15.2009
the truth is...
When the moon hangs low and reaches it's full roundness the memories return. The darkness masks their importance as if the dark shroud could hide the truth
...I miss you.
I guess I'm still broken hearted. I guess I still love you. I guess I can't let you go. But do I? Or do I miss the idea of you more? Or maybe, as I often do,I have created an image, a love so out of this world and larger than life that it never really was. That the reality will always pale in comparison....
Tomorrow I turn 25, a quarter of a century lived and still I feel as though I've not accomplished much of anything. It's funny isn't it? How we go about our lives systematically as if the motions and movements make it all real. There are times on my morning commute where I feel as though I am living in some sort of movie and one day the director will yell "CUT" and I will finally see that none of this and none of that is real. Or maybe that's what I'm hoping for, a re-do, a time out, a let's try that again shall we?
But alas this is my life and it's a good life, a great life, a crazy surreal one even.
This what I feel for ____ is not love. It is love masking in my need to feel a connection, to feel alive, to feel anything. I find myself creating an elaborate story of how this, whatever it is, is real. But the truth is that it isn't. ____ gives into me because I push ____ to. I choose to like ____ because I know it is doomed to fail. Because the truth is that I am afraid to really let go, to really allow the cement walls protecting my heart to crumble. I am afraid of feeling worthy of love....
...I miss you.
I guess I'm still broken hearted. I guess I still love you. I guess I can't let you go. But do I? Or do I miss the idea of you more? Or maybe, as I often do,I have created an image, a love so out of this world and larger than life that it never really was. That the reality will always pale in comparison....
Tomorrow I turn 25, a quarter of a century lived and still I feel as though I've not accomplished much of anything. It's funny isn't it? How we go about our lives systematically as if the motions and movements make it all real. There are times on my morning commute where I feel as though I am living in some sort of movie and one day the director will yell "CUT" and I will finally see that none of this and none of that is real. Or maybe that's what I'm hoping for, a re-do, a time out, a let's try that again shall we?
But alas this is my life and it's a good life, a great life, a crazy surreal one even.
This what I feel for ____ is not love. It is love masking in my need to feel a connection, to feel alive, to feel anything. I find myself creating an elaborate story of how this, whatever it is, is real. But the truth is that it isn't. ____ gives into me because I push ____ to. I choose to like ____ because I know it is doomed to fail. Because the truth is that I am afraid to really let go, to really allow the cement walls protecting my heart to crumble. I am afraid of feeling worthy of love....
11.07.2009
Take Offs & Landings
The slow climb into
the sky
As the ground beneath becomes
a reflection of the constellations above
Blankets of light flickering
in both directions
And You and I
unavoidably caught in
the breath between
Gravity pulls at metal wings
shifting reminders
of reality setting in
At ten thousand miles
We turn on our sounds
though silence seems
heavier
We wonder, what is left?
Left of center is where
we must begin this journey
into unknowing smiles
sighs, whispers, distractions
Neither one anticipating
the decent, the sound
of arching
Here in the sky
nothing can touch us
Cocooned in metal
shrouds
We can only lean
upon each other
grasping fingers
intertwine
The touch of humanity
almost unbearable
The formations of the land
below become
infinitely clear
As we journey back
into our worlds
separate entities
entirely devoid of truth
When rubber kisses asphalt
our breaths hitch
we are back
On the ground, staring
at the sky above
the quiet journey
we've just departed from
This goodbye seems
endless until we find
ourselves once again
among the clouds
the sky
As the ground beneath becomes
a reflection of the constellations above
Blankets of light flickering
in both directions
And You and I
unavoidably caught in
the breath between
Gravity pulls at metal wings
shifting reminders
of reality setting in
At ten thousand miles
We turn on our sounds
though silence seems
heavier
We wonder, what is left?
Left of center is where
we must begin this journey
into unknowing smiles
sighs, whispers, distractions
Neither one anticipating
the decent, the sound
of arching
Here in the sky
nothing can touch us
Cocooned in metal
shrouds
We can only lean
upon each other
grasping fingers
intertwine
The touch of humanity
almost unbearable
The formations of the land
below become
infinitely clear
As we journey back
into our worlds
separate entities
entirely devoid of truth
When rubber kisses asphalt
our breaths hitch
we are back
On the ground, staring
at the sky above
the quiet journey
we've just departed from
This goodbye seems
endless until we find
ourselves once again
among the clouds
10.15.2009
i am still alive... in case you wondered... all 4 of you
It has been awhile since I've written a blog entry, since August as a matter of fact, so I felt the need to dust off the old keyboard and get to writing except when I tried I had nothing to write about. Well to help inspire me I asked my friends to send me questions and or topics to write from a few kind souls have left me suggestions. The following entry will be the first of the few I received.
Q:How can one differentiate insecurity from intuition? How can a person tell whether they are going off their intuition or just being insecure?
This question caught me off guard. My initial reaction was, is it possible to not know the difference because in my mind they seemed completely on different ends of the spectrum. But the more I thought about it the more I realized the complexity of this particular question.
I suppose it begins with the understanding of these two words. What is intuition? What is insecurity? For me intuition is a voice that guides and insecurity is a voice that hinders. Which is why I seemed to think of these two as opposite. But there is certainly a thin line between these two worlds.
I think the main difference is that one (intuition) comes out of trusting yourself and the other (insecurity) is more fear based. We are prompted into action by being afraid or being inspired to take action. The fear based response is often reactionary which may not always lead to the best outcome.
I think the first thing is to learn to trust yourself. Once you can decifer the different voices tugging at you then it'll be easier to see the differences between the two ideas.
In my own life I've relied on my faith and belief that things that happen are all meant to happen as they are. It took me a long time to quell the over bearing self destructive voice that seems to always rear its ugly head while making important decisions but with a little time and a little self acceptance I have learned to not be as self destructive. I've learned to love myself and wow what a difference a little love makes!
Q:How can one differentiate insecurity from intuition? How can a person tell whether they are going off their intuition or just being insecure?
This question caught me off guard. My initial reaction was, is it possible to not know the difference because in my mind they seemed completely on different ends of the spectrum. But the more I thought about it the more I realized the complexity of this particular question.
I suppose it begins with the understanding of these two words. What is intuition? What is insecurity? For me intuition is a voice that guides and insecurity is a voice that hinders. Which is why I seemed to think of these two as opposite. But there is certainly a thin line between these two worlds.
I think the main difference is that one (intuition) comes out of trusting yourself and the other (insecurity) is more fear based. We are prompted into action by being afraid or being inspired to take action. The fear based response is often reactionary which may not always lead to the best outcome.
I think the first thing is to learn to trust yourself. Once you can decifer the different voices tugging at you then it'll be easier to see the differences between the two ideas.
In my own life I've relied on my faith and belief that things that happen are all meant to happen as they are. It took me a long time to quell the over bearing self destructive voice that seems to always rear its ugly head while making important decisions but with a little time and a little self acceptance I have learned to not be as self destructive. I've learned to love myself and wow what a difference a little love makes!
8.18.2009
(500) days
This will be the last thing I write about you....
This will be the moment I let you go....
This will be the reality of our lives....
It's been months... days... hours... minutes... seconds
... and I think I've finally reached the point of being okay with letting go. I loved you, this much I know is true. You loved me too, that I also know. But sometimes love isn't enough and when we get older we learn this is the truth. That destiny and fate and love they are all alive but not always in the people we wish so desperately for them to be.
I want you to know I never stopped believing on account of our unraveling. I want you to know that for awhile there I was a mess listening to sad songs, writing crappy poetry, blaming myself, reliving the moments in which I saw us dissipate. I want you to know that I am not perfect, I never have been and never will be for that matter, and you know that's okay. I want you to know that I am grateful for having had you in my life and subsequently for feeling heart broken. I want you to know I still feel alive despite the fact that I thought you were the air.
...and so this is my good bye to you a finality I've never really been good at despite pretending to always be. I guess I'm just done pretending. I guess I just want to move on and look forward to the rest of my time here on Earth. I think the only way to that is to set myself free of the hope that you and I will be, Us once more. You wrote me and for the first time I felt no satisfaction from knowing you were there just across the wires. The words they stared at me blankly and all I could think was this is how far we've come and this is the only place left for it to go. Which is exactly nowhere a dead end. I felt a relief in that.
... You opened me up in ways I never knew I could open and I am so happy about that. So full of gratitude for the opening of doors into rooms of myself I never knew were there. I am starting to fill them now with furniture and books and pictures they're all slowly starting to feel like home. For so long I thought you were my only gateway into happiness. But that evidently is not true. I find myself missing you and I remember it wasn't meant to be that our time was up, that is our destiny.
...So thank you for breaking my heart and for showing me it's okay to love and to be loved.
This is my farewell....
This is my way of being free...
This is how it has to be....
I see it now I feel it I understand it
This will be the moment I let you go....
This will be the reality of our lives....
It's been months... days... hours... minutes... seconds
... and I think I've finally reached the point of being okay with letting go. I loved you, this much I know is true. You loved me too, that I also know. But sometimes love isn't enough and when we get older we learn this is the truth. That destiny and fate and love they are all alive but not always in the people we wish so desperately for them to be.
I want you to know I never stopped believing on account of our unraveling. I want you to know that for awhile there I was a mess listening to sad songs, writing crappy poetry, blaming myself, reliving the moments in which I saw us dissipate. I want you to know that I am not perfect, I never have been and never will be for that matter, and you know that's okay. I want you to know that I am grateful for having had you in my life and subsequently for feeling heart broken. I want you to know I still feel alive despite the fact that I thought you were the air.
...and so this is my good bye to you a finality I've never really been good at despite pretending to always be. I guess I'm just done pretending. I guess I just want to move on and look forward to the rest of my time here on Earth. I think the only way to that is to set myself free of the hope that you and I will be, Us once more. You wrote me and for the first time I felt no satisfaction from knowing you were there just across the wires. The words they stared at me blankly and all I could think was this is how far we've come and this is the only place left for it to go. Which is exactly nowhere a dead end. I felt a relief in that.
... You opened me up in ways I never knew I could open and I am so happy about that. So full of gratitude for the opening of doors into rooms of myself I never knew were there. I am starting to fill them now with furniture and books and pictures they're all slowly starting to feel like home. For so long I thought you were my only gateway into happiness. But that evidently is not true. I find myself missing you and I remember it wasn't meant to be that our time was up, that is our destiny.
...So thank you for breaking my heart and for showing me it's okay to love and to be loved.
This is my farewell....
This is my way of being free...
This is how it has to be....
I see it now I feel it I understand it
5.18.2009
finally.. i write
I see your reflection caught in the glass window in front of which you are currently standing. There. That look in your eye that says you will break my heart…
I step towards you reaching a hand to your shoulder and feel the distance as my flesh presses your flesh. It’s so easy once you see that there is the inevitable truth: my heart is yours to break over and over and over again if you wish.
I don’t flinch as the words spill from your mouth, ripples of water disturbing the calm. I take it in and nod. You repeat them as if the repetition will further my understanding. Though as I watch the movements of your face I see that the repetition is for your own wellbeing.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
You say. The cadence of your voice like wind drifting through cherry blossoms. You’re leaving and all I can see is the way the sun dances in the pools of blue that are threatening to spill over on to dry land. I stand and listen because that is what I’m supposed to do a china doll devoid of feeling?
“Do you have anything to say?”
The question startles me into existence. What is there to say? Do I beg forgiveness? Absolve me of these sins… Absolution to grant me into heavenly graces. I crane my neck.
“Well?”
Stunned into silence I reach my hand to sweep it across your cheek. I look into you.
“Please say something. Anything.”
I open my mouth to speak though currently cotton is all that is released.
I love you
I manage the three words so meaningless I can’t even believe them. You stand staring your head cocked to one side a hand upon your hip. Your foot nearly in nervous tapping.
“I love you too, but…”
The words trail off into a path unknown. I mull over the sentence hoping to find a way into the logic that another three letters can say so much without saying anything at all. BUT. It stares at me in staccato shape teasing, questioning. I look to you again for answers you will never know…
silence
I step towards you reaching a hand to your shoulder and feel the distance as my flesh presses your flesh. It’s so easy once you see that there is the inevitable truth: my heart is yours to break over and over and over again if you wish.
I don’t flinch as the words spill from your mouth, ripples of water disturbing the calm. I take it in and nod. You repeat them as if the repetition will further my understanding. Though as I watch the movements of your face I see that the repetition is for your own wellbeing.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
You say. The cadence of your voice like wind drifting through cherry blossoms. You’re leaving and all I can see is the way the sun dances in the pools of blue that are threatening to spill over on to dry land. I stand and listen because that is what I’m supposed to do a china doll devoid of feeling?
“Do you have anything to say?”
The question startles me into existence. What is there to say? Do I beg forgiveness? Absolve me of these sins… Absolution to grant me into heavenly graces. I crane my neck.
“Well?”
Stunned into silence I reach my hand to sweep it across your cheek. I look into you.
“Please say something. Anything.”
I open my mouth to speak though currently cotton is all that is released.
I love you
I manage the three words so meaningless I can’t even believe them. You stand staring your head cocked to one side a hand upon your hip. Your foot nearly in nervous tapping.
“I love you too, but…”
The words trail off into a path unknown. I mull over the sentence hoping to find a way into the logic that another three letters can say so much without saying anything at all. BUT. It stares at me in staccato shape teasing, questioning. I look to you again for answers you will never know…
silence
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