by Xve
And I sometimes think,
“I may have never met you.”
How unlucky would that have been?
My luck’s never been great, given the circumstances.
I am so lucky to ever have.
Why wouldn’t I celebrate …
In who you are?
No matter how close we may be,
Near or far.
Whether you like me or hate,
Prefer me or abhor me,
I love you.
Because you mean no one any harm.
Because I can see the good,
And I can see the strength,
And I can feel the peace,
And I can sense the struggle.
I can watch the light, brightly, as it shines in your smile,
And revel in the soft music of your voice,
as I receive the wisdom of your travels.
I can witness the pride in your stride
and the humbleness in your silence.
I cannot tell you, in the scope of this sometimes harsh and brutal world,
Just how truly beautiful you are.
Where an energy so intangible, seems to shower away from you like
pollen in the spring, has taken root and now grows inside my heart.
I can never possess you.
My touch might ruin you,
my kiss may devalue you,
but my honest love for you,
allows me to celebrate, that I met you
I think you are a wonderful person.
No matter if you feel nothing for me.
I cannot control the world. I can only witness it.
And wish in it.
My wish is to get to know you.
Be a friend.
And feel the snow that falls softly in my being when I am close to you.
I know you feel this way about someone.
Maybe just not me.
Show me your heart.
Within all of Your precious beauty,
please (consider) showing me, Your heart.
Show me the spot, where with which
I can start –
To speak words of deep love to,
towards in the dark.
Please, please, please allow me,
- to see the spot,
where with a wet fingered kiss,
I can caress, the access of hidden bliss,
the secret to Your cavernous seductiveness.
The place where if I were allowed to go,
I know,
exists room to grow; room to get to know
what makes You, You.
What helplessly draws me in,
electing to be the guardian,
to the center of Your precious being.
Maybe Your heart has been broken before ?
I could find all the pieces.
Maybe the trust has dried inside ?
I could moisten the pain with pure tears to cry.
Maybe it’s only a matter of time,
before You decide,
to love again.
So, please show me the spot, where I may -
Or may not;
become a part.
But, at least, I would know where the radiance of who
You have grown to become,
had gotten its start.
I would never hurt you….
For being the POT,
I know how the level of intensity that heat can feel.
Being the FLOWER,
I know the slow dry death of not being, watered,
Not being given sunshine,
And the sting of a vindictive bee. (many actually)
Being a BAR OF GOLD,
Sometimes pondering my own luster,
being desired for all the wrong reasons,
And knowing of my “true value”, wanting to be with the right
person to enjoy our worth together.
Also from the standpoint of being Gold, I can envision your incredible potential.
From being the STRAY CAT,
Hiding my pained and saddened face,
Running away from children wanting to play,
And howling and crying my hungry self to sleep in need of a friend in the
darkness.
As being likened to the FIGHTER,
Who has won and lost many bloody battles,
but decided he would much rather have spent that time loving instead.
For being the DEMENTED PRISONER,
With just enough sense left to yell at you through the iron bars,
“Don’t come this way !”
For being the ANGERED CHILD,
Who sought to be strong,
Only to end up so weak,
Sought to Die,
Due to living,
Hated the World,
And wonders if any of this has even changed.
Yet still hopes and believes for the one person who may help to make this journey in life worthwhile and meaningful.
For being the MIRROR,
Who would never lie to you, but show you your every distinct detail,
Your inner beauty,
Your slight imperfections,
Your amazing progress.
Do this quietly,
Lovingly,
Unconditionally,
And all at the same while, exposing my own qualities
with you to share.
Who being the DREAMER,
Can completely see your dreams,
Know the desires of your heart,
And would stand against the entire world with you until they became a reality.
I would never hurt you …
Because, to me?
All of you is what I see,
Our experiences, could easily make US a “WE”.
We have both,
Sought at the same level.
Fought at the same level,
Loved at the same level,
and Lost at the same level.
Why do I say this and not try to make a comparison?
Because all experiences are of the “utmost” matching to the exposition of one’s life.
A painful occurrence, is a painful occurrence.
Who could ever say:
A broken thumb, hurts less than
a broken toe?
What? If anything, hurts more or less?
I would never hurt you… my precious…
Cause when I look at you, I see me standing there.
Sometimes doubting myself.
Careful not to say the wrong things,
Cracking a smile, when I may want to crack a skull.
(Especially my own)
Walking alone a victor and sometimes a victim.
Lying in the sun, resting and breathing – My skin, heaving –
Air pulsating under my body, the many scars and gouges from
Lies
Hard Words,
Deceptions,
Broken Trust,
Anger … and
Disappointments.
Need I say more?
Need I spread more? (pain after all of this realization of it?)
I’d rather die…
I would never hurt you …
And the only reason I can say this, is because,
I’ve tasted pain’s soulless sting –
Been in the clutches of anger,
Behind the imprisonment of separation –
Walked the hollow void of betrayal-
And screamed through tears of abandonment-
I would never hurt you …
For you can’t see the tears that have dried into this paper, to confirm this to you.
These are not tears of sadness, but tears of great Joy!
In my ability to clearly tell you this.
that
I would never hurt you …
Just because ….
I bought a painting
For a girl.
For our house.
; Out of love.
But all I got
from her,
was pushed away,
with a shove –
Because of her perception,
that her life was over,
yet her heart still beat
within her precious chest.
Her eyes were like stone,
while she still laughed about
the road, now much harder
as it glistened with flint.
I begged her to end her stint
of inversion, because the
equation held three other
integers, and a math problem
will work out, or you scrap
the board.
I held her tiny, soft hand
on a late night ride, and
told her I loved her, but
she was quite snide.
But, I don’t mind – I understand
where she is. I’ve seen worse
and I know the curse – of
a tender heart, which is what
I know she’s got.
I mentioned she is my other half,
my beautiful, non-conjoined twin.
I want her to know everything –
about me, cause there’s nothing
to hide – right my fan base?
I would like her next to me,
at night, breathing softly,
shivering a little, as my fat,
wraps up all the blankets,
and I cover her with my
body to give her ease.
To comfort her through
defective dreams and nurture
her while in this state.
Moments exist of great
self- torture and a journey
within to debate – to scale grey
mountains of doubt in order
to eradicate the venomous
villains of past insurgents.
I want to be her warrior, if
only she would knight me
an ally and together, side by
side we can fight her battles
to reduce her troubles. Trust –
I have my own, and my wars
continue on all levels with
no ray of stoppage in sight.
We are both getting older,
the clock is ticking and the
road is thinning. Who said
life was a punishment
assignment – just go ask
the cheery, fat, happy rich-os
next door – (well, not in my
neighborhood.) And not
hippos in any zoo either.
Bottom line is – I love her.
I want to do with her, not
try – I’ve tried and failed
before, and in some things,
failure is not an option.
So, I pursue, her, with hope in my
heart, purity in my words. A quill
of poetry to hunt her down and my
arms open with my heart flowing.
Shields up Scotty, we need to be
prepared for battle.
Because she’s a handful.
And all I have, is I painting
I bought for her.
I knew you once.
Before
I don’t know when,
But I knew when I walked through your door.
The feeling was strong,
so crushingly strong.
I loved you once. Over time.
And I fought for you,
Always. As I am doing right now.
You have been in my heart since the beginning of time.
My time at least.
However long that has been.
I may have been thrown to the Lions, just for looking your way.
I may have been the Soldier, who hugged the arrow into my heart serving as your shield,
for that pain was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to not having you.
Oh Death’s sting I gladly drank, the sword was a tickle, for I would die for you
right now, in this day and age.
I may have been the slave which bore your gondola on my crooked, beaten back,
or the Master, who adored you from afar, but chance I often lacked.
I could have been the General, who after decades of war,
came home to find you long gone.
Or the Minstrel, who without your beauty,
had completely lost his song.
All I know, is my history with you is long. Very long,
For time after time, I stretched out my hand only to grasp
the nervous, cold air intended to be your touch.
I love you so much.
I was created to find you.
I am destined to search for you,
I was born to live for you,
And I will Die;
Again and Again.
Time after Time.
Until you are finally mine.
Please allow me a chance ?
he practiced, as he whispered
in the dark.
Please allow me a chance ?
those words came, bubbling
up from within his heart.
They were the default.
The words that fills his
soul, every time he sees
her face, and hears her
voice, and touches her
skin, and tastes her beauty,
and smells her aroma -
from all five senses, he
knows that it is her only.
A chance is all he could
ever hope for. Just like any
dream. Only, she was now
the biggest part of it, and
the most real, the best to
experience, like a seductive,
placid haze in a drug trip,
the greatest anticipated
Christmas gift of all, or
just a breath of fresh air,
blown over the face of
someone who has not loved
in a long time.
He realizes that a chance
with her is all he needs.
Because a whole new
world in his heart would
open, and a river of trust,
happiness and love, could
flow into a mind of
dedication, in order to
build a solid foundation
for a supportive life for
them both.
He tells her he loves her,
but he wonders if she hears it?
He wonders if he says it correctly.
Or if his heart is engaged?
If she can feel his anticipation
when he has not seen her in
a while, or the fear, of which
there is not much other than,
to affect him, when he feels
he won’t see her again.
Does he say it correctly?
It’s not just about words,
actions are always louder,
but words are an action
and a place of beginning,
towards reasoning.
So many thoughts come to
mind. About what things
could be like, if he could
see her every day, and enjoy
her company and just be
happily in love with her.
Seems like that’s the dream
that many speak of, and
spend a large amount of
time, seeking to find.
Please allow me a chance ?
Is what he’s saying,
But, what he really means is …
Please allow me to open a door,
for me to truly love you, and
for you to know me, and for
us to trust each other, and
for our lives to come together?
Please allow me a chance ?
To win your heart,
and to ease y
our mind,
to calm your fears,
and sooth your pains,
to build your esteem,
and to make you smile,
to kiss you every day,
to hold your hand,
to dream with you,
to stand with you,
to fight your battles,
to make your dreams
come true, to make my
dreams come true,
to make our dreams
come true,
All just by loving you.
like what you did
for me – because
meeting you, loving
you – experiencing you
has been out of my dreams.
And it is a dream I
fear against, and hope
towards never ending.
As you can tell,
this also is no poem,
it’s real words,
from a real heart,
with a real dream,
and a real love,
that’s all just for you,
my beautiful
Dandelion.
Please allow me a chance ?
I love you so much.
My hope for you this Day …
Is for you to have a vision, or a reflection, of
just how beautiful and wonderful and special
you really are.
