Poetry

Here are a few poems I have written. 

Untitled

She has spent the day in hell and sees him as a way out of it.

He has rendered his life useless, and sees her as a purpose.

Tonight.

They don’t need much else.

They see the pointlessness in sex,

And crave each other anyway.

They see the fear that comes with love.

Rather or not they risk it, is their business.

Browns seduce her….

Green eyes make him wonder….

Smiles,

Kisses

Touching

Sweat.

It’s anything but thoughtless,

It’s logical, biological.

Perfect and scary.

 Wonderful and completely empty.

It’s over.

Wedding Poem

There was a day when I wasn’t sure to whom my love belonged.

I can’t recall it now.

It belongs to him, and his belongs to me.

There was a day when I did not care what my love looked like.

Now my love has only one face.

His eyes to see me in the best light, his arms' purpose to hold only me.

My heart will accept him, my touch will comfort him.

There was a day when I could not fathom dying for another.

I say now, on the day our marriage begins, those days are over.

Our greatest triumph  will be to die feeling just like this.

Wait

We stand side-by- side,

The red hand warns,

We are still,

You stare at me.

I wait.

Keep Looking.

The time will come when you see me,

In spite of yourself,

You’ll see my eyes,

And you’ll hear my laugh.

I wait.

The time will come when you’ll see a human,

Not an angel.

You will see my obstinacy.

You will see my volatility.

I wait.

The time will come when we are equals,

In your mind and mine,

We will feel likeness,

We will make sense.

I wait.

Then you will see,

And I will see,

In spite of myself,

We walk together.

Keep Looking.

The time will come when you see me,

In spite of yourself,

You’ll see my eyes,

And you’ll hear my laugh.

I wait.

The time will come when you’ll see a human,

Not an angel.

You will see my obstinacy.

You will see my volatility.

I wait.

The time will come when we are equals,

In your mind and mine,

We will feel likeness,

We will make sense.

I wait.

Then you will see,

And I will see,

In spite of myself,

We walk together.

Him and I

I hated the way he wore his clothes.

I loved the way he looked out of them.

I hated the way he spoke to me.

But he always knew to hold my hand.

Nothing’s perfect.

He hated the way I cried.

He loved the way I comforted.

He hated the way I ran.

But I always knew when to stay.

Nothing’s simple.

They hate the way we laugh so loud.

They love the way we were imperfect.

They hated the way we didn’t care.

But they kept trying to change that.

Everything is judged.

Nothing’s perfect.

Nothing’s simple.

Everything is judged.

This is him and this is me.

Death

Little children can ignore it. 

Everyone they love has breathe in their lungs.

What a brief luxury.

It is inevitable and ultimate.

Equalizing all of us in seconds.

What does this matter?

It is silence. 

Our end only makes noise in the hearts of a few.

What is the harm in loving too much?