The Sun

You never look at me except in frustration. You bask in my warmth. You cy when I leave, but never search for me. On days I am mute, you complain. On days I am at my strongest, you hide. You never look at me until I am walking away, and in the beauty of the setting sun, you wondered how you never seen me before. 

You Are My Sunshine

May you dance like the street lights at night that twinkle in the horizon.

May the sun kiss your velvet skin once more, it's warm lips leaving a constellation of spots.

May your angelic voice sing the gospel with the King, ringing in the ears of your loved ones. 

May the room fill with the warmth of Tabu as you pass us by. 

May you piece our hearts back together like a puzzle, placing a tender, loving kiss on each one. 

May you rest peacefully now, but please, never forget that you are loved, and will be missed so dearly.

Nights Alone

"This morning 
I am at the kitchen table 
crying again, like a bent 
blade of grass drenched 
in dew, drenched 
in you.

By this afternoon, 
I will be dry. I will seem fine 
to the bluebird, 
to the butterfly passing by, but I 
know better.

I know it doesn't matter 
how warm & bright 
the daylight feels, 
when nights alone 
are cold."

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 It is a lonely feeling when you are aching for the connection. When you feel it buzzing in your heart and you cannot release it. It pulses with each passing day. But all you can do is wait. 

Sit back and admire them in silence. Let your heart swell with longing. 

Daydreaming. Pondering. 

I see your soul. It is so, so bright. I want to touch it like it touches mine. You are genuine, pure. A rare person. Your smile pours life in me. 

But my love is not given freely. So I will wait. I will be patient for you. I will not make the same mistake. You have earned my trust, but my love is limited. 

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You were something else. Something I had never seen before. Your soul was bright. Almost as bright as your smile and your eyes. I drank in your words like fresh water. They were so full of wisdom and happiness. I wish you would have spoken more. Your outlook on life was so foreign. You changed my perspective on so many things by taking my mind to better turns. I yearned for our conversations, our banters and your laughter. Our moments together were indescribable. Unreplaceable. 

But now all is empty. You left me raw. Open. And afraid. You have made my walls thicker. The top is unreachable. I cannot love like that again. Trust is scoffed at. When you reach out, I feel as if I need to break my own hand. Before touching yours.  

The Hook.

I hold on. 

It is tearing me a part. 

I am suffering. 

It is bitter. 

Souring, curdling in my mouth. 

A blister in my throat. 

It is hard to move past it. 

I grit my teeth. 

I am suffering. 

Because you have hurt me. 

It seeps through my pores. 

It burns. 

 

I will never forget what you did. 

Because it scarred me. 

I am suffering. 

I am on the hook. 

I feel it piercing my core. 

Because I am holding on. 

"The only person who is on the hook when we hang on to resentment is ourselves. We are the ones who are suffering." J. Kristina 

To the Grave

My love and I
meet under the sky
and dance as we witness
each age
pass by.

She is peace,
security 
in
sameliness.

I am passion,
the thirst
for
change
and
growth.

She is warmth, the pride
in tradition.

I am progress,
the blaze of
revolution.

And though we may
exist forever,

one cannot live

without
the other.

Caged

Her thoughts are not in your control. 

Her feelings should be free, as the sound of chiming bells. 

Clip her wings, tell her lies. 

Shine those rose colored glasses. 

Watch her live behind a latched door as her spirit slips away.  

So you can keep her in sight. 

In sight of those rose colored glasses.

You sit with no sound. 

Never cry nor shout. 

As if you are a sunflower stuck in the ground.