Nightmares

Tears are welling up, just as I hoped they wouldn't, and I have to blame you. Favorite films are tainted with you, and I can't seem to find the proper cleanser to do away with the stains; why'd you have to come about and make your mess? Dirty kisses are all over, and the overwhelming mountain of them leave me to contemplate that which I thought I had left behind. Why'd you have to come about making your mess? No one can clean it up, not even you.

Ease

The ease in which your lips form impeccable doses of sensuality has yet to cease to amaze me. Once again you've proven that with eyes closed loving you would still be the euphoria I'm indulging in my present. The magic you possess isn't crude charm; your gift to melodiously tempt me to satisfy all of your will, along with your restraint in not abusing my naïveté fuels this monstruous and all consuming fire.
The ease in which your lips form perfectly the only words I need to hear is unnaturally, yet easily, the most beautiful memory you've left with me.

Adoration

Sensual expressions have eradicated, and at last, I've kissed the waters of inspiration. Ephemeral perhaps, but I feel an abundant happiness that can be identified in the depths of my heart, the deep of my eyes, the grins on my face. Happiness that life births is a phenomenal sacrament that traces only few lives, yet I was graced. I was graced to feel that which I haven't felt in more than a year, and here I am. Enjoying.

Rolling hills of happiness, I adore you.

Ventuno

I'm begging for you to come back.
Days were brighter
Nights were longer
The breeze was sweeter
Nostalgia was stronger
Love was all enveloping:
Or was that you?

I'm begging for you to come back.
Nothing in this world is the same
Nothing around me matters as much
Everything is departing
Everything is distant
Everyone is bland:
Or is that just me?

I'm begging for you to come back.
I want colorful sparks known as moments
I want bountiful beauty to fill my soul
Consummation calls!
Information inquires!
Memories of you flit:
Creativity, will you stay?

Changes

Usually, reclusion is a gift that I'll never negate, but lately, reclusion has transformed into loneliness. I don't smile as bright as I used to, and certainly it's a cause of the massive change looming over our heads. I can't indulge in relationships that might have worked out, only because Time tells me not to. I can't engage on levels that I accustom myself to doing, and it's killing me. The luster is fading, and I don't know what to do. I'm being shadowed by fear, and all I feel is an infernal winter that puts to sleep anything that hasn't endured previous winters. Usually, change is greeted with open arms, but now it's stifling me with its bombarding lack of cordiality, and I can't resurface from what I see...

Nostalgia.

Sometimes the rustle of the leaves that scurry by is the only thing that tells me that I'm still alive. The subtle scrapes against the concrete remind me that I still can communicate without saying a word, without a single whisper. Although I cannot wish for a time like then to reoccur, I miss the complexity of my existence - the complexity you used to illuminate - and I miss the philosophical mazes we lost ourselves in for hours.  


I appreciate your beautiful absence - no longer is the air thick with guilt and pain - yet, on days like these, our synergy would have lit up the city. On days like these, your love would have done me good.

Even When

Melancholy has a way of visiting unexpectedly, and I hate it. I wish she'd give me more notice, so I wouldn't burst into tears every time I think of your voice. You cause me more grief than you should, you know. I just thought to let you know, especially since you're not quite sure how we fit anymore. Christ, as if I knew how we're supposed to act, as civility has gone out the wayside. My dear, I can't imagine ever harming you intentionally, even at this point in time, so must these torments be as often as they are? Or are you just exhausting us for a reason? I'm hoping for the later, but sometimes I feel like I don't know you. Sometimes, when I'm laying my head down to breathe in the late night, I don't know what you feel for me, or if you did at all! I'm sure at one point you did, but now you've hurt me, and I'm lost.

Darling, I'm lost, but please don't go looking for me, even if love has compelled you.

Simply Because I Can

Simply because I can love you
Doesn't mean I should --
When were you ever right for me?
This love is juvenile, unfortunately.
Nothing was to bloom from a moment.
But, must I reconcile with the reality
Of your nature, of my nature and
Of everything consumed by reality?
I cannot imagine myself deliberately
Negating that you lacked the maturity to love;
I refuse to believe the excuse everyone gifts you:
Excuses were never viable to begin with.
I cannot imagine myself not taking you seriously,
Yet, at this rate: I'll have to.

Fear

Sometimes, people cannot reconcile with themselves well enough to see the truth. I, for one, cannot bear to lie to myself after committing that crime once. There is no use in being dishonest with the one person I will always be with -- myself. Yet, how can I transcend what I have learned to those who may need it, or who especially need it? How can I tell if they've blanketed themselves well enough to keep the chill of the bitter truth out, while caressing a heartache that is festering? To what help is this mute discourse?
Oh, God, so help me if he's hurt. Allow her capricious satisfaction be enough to keep him happy. Allow her dirty whims be enough for him to wake up with an unprecedented excitement to see the morrow. But, if his love is honest and pure, then please make hers his equal. Allow them to combine under veracity, and not under the confines of stealth, lies, and manipulative tactics.
Yet, if he has the lining of doubt, get him out of there. Save him from the tumultuous life he could lead if he stays. Save him! so as to let him learn the moral.

Paradoxes

I hate admitting to myself every night, like some sort of cynic's lullaby, that I screwed up. I wish you the best, but my God, I hate having to admit defeat. This is what emotional suicide feels like, I'm pretty sure. I love you, so I left you, but I still love you. See the problem in that? I'm feeling it.

I Don't Need My Words to Rhyme

I don't need my words to rhyme
when i have the rhythm of your love

I don't need to be masked by the shell of my clothes
now that your warmth has painted me caramel

I don't need the rough beats on the radio
when the melody of your voice is chorally divine

I don't need the paint strokes of the Picasso's in the gallery
when the strokes of your lips against mine transcend longer...further

I don't need the romantic fields of England
when your chest depicts the vastness of the Mediterranean

I don't need laws, governments, or religion
now that your love is the unspoken promise of Heaven

Questions.

How is it that things got this way? Where I no longer can breathe without having to worry about those around me? I heard the world's sadness in your voice when I admitted to you what kind of person I was, even though it was never your fault. But I wasn't programmed this way, was I? I surely couldn't have been born to birth and nurture the pains of those around me. Certainly I am more than just a cynic waiting for karma to kick in. There has to be more to life than just the constant suffering that I put myself through. There has to be more to life than this.

If mornings weren't so bright.

If mornings weren't so bright;
If the moon weren't so beautiful;
If the youth of our lives would transcend
I'd be more compelled to you.
These harsh treatises I write in my heart
Are because I had not any idea.
I was blinded, and not by your love.
Indecision blocked from me that which I want most.
My own stupid indecision is now killing me.
Everyday, I see you, your smile, your eyes,
And I just remember.
I remember a time when loving you was simple, easy.
But all I have left now are shards.
Shards that I can't decipher.
Shards created by self-loathing.
Self-loathing birthed from regret.

Well.

Who's to say that I'll want to wake up if I fall asleep? This waking torture is growing to be unbearable. I have never tasted the bitter wine of regret, and now that I'm drowning in it, waiting for you to come save me, I can see why you wouldn't. But please, I'm begging you, do come and save me. Just this once. I'll repay you in the currency of love, and revenge and anything else you want. I'd stop time, if that's what you'd want. Dammit! Can't you see? I'm out of my mind with all the honesty I'm trying to exude; these aren't mere tantrums! Nor am I being dishonest. Nor have I been. Please listen to me when I say I love you. Please hear my pleas. Please don't let my flails of distress appear to be waves from afar.

Realization.

No one ever told me that making my own decisions would be so painful, or that love was treasonous. I was misinformed when they told me that people were good, and that life was easy. When you told me that your arms were my safe haven, I should’ve been more aware of the venom of personal interests. When I kissed you, I should have been a bit more honest - I was not looking for love - but I wasn’t. When I said I was yours, I should have also mentioned the bit of me that belongs to a force insurmountable.


But this here is the truth: I love you. Had it not been for you, I never would’ve realized this much about myself. I don’t accredit everything to you, but you’ve helped me propel myself - yet at the cost of losing you. At the cost of forfeiting you, I forfeited a part of me that will forever remain in the uncertainty of the wind. By losing you, I’m not sure what all I have gained, besides the dismal recognition of your absence.

I've finally learned to be more open. I've finally learned to just say what's on my mind, with preoccupation of the world around me. Perhaps I just feel that compelled to you; Perhaps it was my lack of full awareness. I don't care what it is. I just needed to say it. I just needed you to know. I just needed to feel like I knew, for once, what the hell I was doing, and not blaming it on fate.

Deplorable Conditions

I want to write poetry,
I want to write you a song.
I want to sleep comfortable
I want to be happy
I want to know that everything will be great
I want to breathe without worries


I just want you back, alright?

Roses

The roses you gifted me are still beautiful, it's really a wonder. They're a slightly deeper hue of red, but they're not withered, nor wilted in the least sense. The largest one of the dozen remains as red as my lips, rather red if you ask me. Although, these beauties of nature remains, our relationship does not, and I regret ever making that decision. Yet, laissez-faire is the way I must go. I won't beg, nor plead. I want you back, but I shall not impose upon you my wishes.
I genuinely cared about you, but what more can I do?

Catharsis

Don't think I'm beginning to torment you, because that is not my intention. I only wish you the best, and perhaps you don't care about what I'm about to say, but you need to know this. You need to know that I love you for the wrong reasons, and I want to love you for the right ones; I didn't realize it until I fell asleep, and woke up crying this morning.
I love you because of what you do for me, and I want to love you for the way you make me feel. I know the distinction is hardly noticeable, but follow me on my logic, if you wish. I realized that I'm lonely and alone, even with a life like mine that has granted me a plethora of amazing friends, and you. Even though I'm surrounded by people that care about me a lot, I still felt, and continue to feel dissatisfied with everything that I do. I am not excited by that which used to bring me excitement, nor am I capable of caring and loving as much as I used to, and it's a problem within me that only I can fix. I cannot oblige you to follow me into the depths of uncertainty with me, when the consequences are exactly that- uncertain. I love your company, I adore who you are, but you were only a service to me, and unfortunately I only realized it today; I did not intend for you to be that, and I don't want you to be that, especially if I want you back as much as I do.
I want to be in love once I am who I am supposed to be, and not in the state I am now. It's not fair to you, and no matter how much I want you back, you shouldn't come back to me until I am certain of myself.

 I swear on everything that I do love you, and I really want you back.

Honestly.

I shouldn't be jealous, but I am.
I shouldn't care, but I do.
I should really hate you beyond relief.
I should know what's good for me.

You're acting strange, and I do hate you.
He's being everything I need, and I love him.

New Adventures

Must you be so far? And I so busy?
It seems repetitive to say this, but I miss you.
Since I'm being honest lately, I might as well include 
the "I love you". Because I do.
It's lovely to hear your voice again, after how long?
Who cares, we're enjoying ourselves, and it's obvious.
You still remember what I like to hear,
and you still somehow manage to like my rants and raves.


Let's meet up for tea, shall we?
I can finally enjoy that which I've had to hide for much too long.
We could finally start healthily, like we tried so many times last year.

Unfulfilled

Days away from the anniversary of the beginning of a melancholic life, I need you now more than ever; straying away from that which is good for me, I am not satisfied. I am bored. I've already signed my letter of resignation to a life so banal. I have an aspiration, yet I shall not disclose that to you just quite yet.

Allow me to apologize for not having my arms ready for your arrival! Allow this bond of ours to mature in the depths of our hearts and souls and minds. My love, allow for us to be true to ourselves for once.

A Letter with No Direction

At this late hour, my love, my thoughts revert back to you. Naturally, a wave of guilt comes with this satisfaction - for the younger love I have is tender and juvenile, unsuspecting of the strong ties between you and I. His aloofness is peculiar, but it too is a blessing, and I'd rather not pontificate on the possibilities of his reactions towards this clandestine love.


Perhaps you disagree, and wish for me to live honestly, and without the corrupt and eerie wiles of our nature, but it's alluring and intoxicating and unforgettable. A life without you is a life unfulfilled, as a life with him would be much too innocent for me to endure. I have been exposed to the world, and its infections; I am not prone to pain as much as he is, and it's a tale of anxiety to continue to love him. Yet, if you and I were to be bound again, a mature and rejuvenated love would bloom, and the subliminal and hidden messages would be of no use to us any longer. We could explicitly be enamored by each other's gaze; I could kiss you without the night cloaking us; you could hold me without having to let go.


Once again, my true love, my wants and needs match my imagination: Born these dreams into reality.

Thank you, V. Frankenstein

You've wounded me much more than you think you have; this pain isn't all because of you; this fury and wrath aren't born from your treason; this disgust and disappointment have infested these veins and heart much before you- God, am I the modern Prometheus? Cursed to the same torture every day, just because I exuded eternal love?- but, I have to dismiss you from my life. Disillusionment has painted everything a terrible shade of jade, and I no longer can withstand the adversity of pain. I want to crumble, totally, and fall before man. I want my fall to be shown to the world as an example of a distraught figure, scratched by the world's truths; I want to publish my pains; I want to yell my pains; I want to relieve the world of its pains, ever so slightly, by relieving my own pains. Solitude is that which I seek. Solitude and beautiful reclusion. 

Life is an Interesting Game

I'm sick to my stomach.
I want the earth to consume my identity.

And you visit.

Fearlessness

This guilt for allowing you to love me whilst I'm ready to leave this world, and while I'm withering due to an occult love that you can't know of, it's engulfing me. It's destroying me. It's lighting everything in a merciless fire, an unquenchable flame. Would you be able to forgive me if you knew? I wouldn't be so receptive if I were you, yet, darling, you have this faith, this veneration, this exaltation, this love for me. And it overflows! It's a sea of love, and I want to immerse myself into it all. I want to leave this caramel desert: this dry, desolate desert. I want you to cast this love off, without fear. Fearless, my love, is what I wish you to be when you're with me. Fearless is what you shall learn to be once you've discovered my sins. Your naivety and faith will save me, if my vice doesn't come for a visit first.

Needs

Hold me as if I were yours; I allude to you as if I already were.
Kiss me like it's our last time; I want to know how much you want me, if at all.

Make me feel like you're my first love.

Carta Anonima

I'm not sure if I should retain all eloquence, and give you nothing but the bare truth, but, my love, I miss you. Did you, or I for that matter, really think I could lie to myself any longer, especially after our minor encounter? I can no longer live this way: an occult lifestyle filled with pensive moments deriving from a plethora of memories you and I created; a multitude of fantasies birthed, all to mirror our moments of passionate love, and all to see if a minute silhouette could even satiate this heart for just a moment.

Perhaps the naivety is returning, or, more likely, I have idealized a tumultuous relationship for my mental and emotional sanity; yet, my love, shall we eschew responsibility and have a moment to ourselves - forgetting any circumstances, any histories, anything else - a moment to convey all truths without any perversions? Shall we allow ourselves to finally be honest with one another?

I shall commence this process:

I love you, and I never stopped loving you, not even for a moment.

Pandora's Box

What will emerge from my curiosity? I suspect bountiful words will become our tool of attraction; distance separates our bodies, but we can convey ideas so sensually by allowing the sounds to escape our lips. Our tenacity has brought us together again, and whatever our demise will be, surely its decadence will be enjoyed; it always had been.

I am anxious to see the fruits of our haphazard vices; I yearn to know the side effects of this renewed collaboration of ours. Shall we keep the antidote just in case? Perhaps we should toss it along with all the cares and constraints we'll soon disregard.

This introduction, this revitalization has opened Pandora's box; pray that the only horror unleashed was nothing but a trifle.

Memories! please be calm, I can't begin to love when you're perforating every attempt. Leave at once! I cannot bear you much longer!

Yet, the delicious and decadent caramel stick.. So invitingly so...

Supposing

Let's suppose I had you here, observing each motion I make: would you find similarities to the woman you once had? Would you take hold of me, and take me to a world only you and I can create? Or would a slight difference drive you away?

Had you approached me the other afternoon, as close as I was in proximity to you, how would have our lives altered? Would we be engaged in conversation right now, instead of me writing hopeless ballads that you'll never read? Or would have nothing changed at all?

I would have given anything to see you stop time again just with the deep inquiries your eyes engaged upon mine.

Caramel vs. Honey

It's peculiar to remember all the times we'd roll around in your bed, emitting a love that would not last but perhaps a month longer. I can't seem to find the passion I used to give: did you keep it all to yourself? I can't kiss him as well as I used to kiss you...

Seeing you the other day wasn't as dramatic as I had predicted, but love, I can feel you here with me sometimes. In this bed, your caramel warmth caresses my memory with the love you had for me, and even though his honey attention is all towards me, I can't lie to myself: I still favor your caramel. We'll probably never embrace each other like we did our last time, but I feel that we both wonder what would come of it if we did.

If I could change that day, the only thing I would alter would be my words: instead of disharmony, I would profess my every emotion, without care of anything. I would tell you I love you until the end of time. I would tell you I love you, not to beg you back, but just so you would know.

But here we are, reaping the fruits of our mistakes, and all we're left with are memories, wishes, and new lives. Can we cope? I hope we can.

Dearest Darling

Allow me to apologize in advance for that which I cannot change. I cannot deceive myself into thinking that I had not loved before you; that I maintained all calm, and did not commit the ultimate act of faith and love with him; that I did not refuse to believe that love was possible after his. I shall not deceive you by saying that I always was fond of you, or that I had hoped for this to happen.

Yet, allow me to be a better person. Grant me the chance to prove to myself, and to, more importantly, you that I am capable of piety. I had not wished to be the corruption in your life, and perhaps I shall be, regardless of our wills. I pray of you to not dismiss me upon understanding the convoluted situation you find yourself in, but I also shall not cross you in any fashion more than what I already have. Although my heart grows fond, my patience will elasticize to each of your needs and wants.

Allow me to eventually love you more than my heart has known. I promise good fortune once I have completely purged myself of all evil, and of all vice; once I have consummated a grieving process; once I have decided to fall in love with you beyond imagination.

Not Again

Colors of jade are hitting me, reminding me of what was.
Can I not escape the torment of last year?
Shall I continue in a life that is gossiped about?
What trials these are!
I do not wish to doubt Fate and her whim,
But my broken soul can only handle so much
I adore him, it’s true,
But darling Life, you cannot harm us intentionally.
Please do not send us into a place that we may not
Be able to get out of.
Please, I beg of you a different life.