Why must Poetry rhyme always, phonetics leave us with words less honest than what we originally intend to say.
Sometimes the beauty of the word is in that word and none else that makes it lyrical and uniform.
Words like thought must flow like water, formless, endless and shapeless, but true to form.
There is more to be said than words and thoughts say,
There was a time, not long ago, when you were an arm away,
That gave me warmth in a place I can’t touch, even more when the arm’s distance was absent.
I tried in my thoughts to give it a reason, to give you a reason, to make sense of it all,
I have failed every day to put a finger on why
It felt right. It feels right.
And maybe that is enough
For now, for me, that is all that matters
That one moment of real love, when you feel it in places unknown to you,
When somehow the mundane is better, and when your smile starts from the soul.
Yes that moment it is worth it all
A part of me belongs in you and I carry a bit of your smile, your cheeks, your hands, your angered brow, your navel. It all walks with me as much as I can fathom.
Moons and stars will be promised every day, downfalls will be weathered. The warmth of something real will stay.
Distances increase in miles and words, new pains must be endured
Heads must go under water
Because that when the suffocation ends, that one gasp of air is divine
That one hug is divine
That first kiss is divine. Every time.
That first moment in the morning is divine. Because it is real.
Untainted, pure and just right.
I lose every time. And I want to lose. And I want to keep playing.
I want to get hit in the wall. But I want to keep walking into it every waking moment of my life. It feels right.
With my imperfections, I feel complete yet so incomplete with myself.
I feel further from you today than I will tomorrow and that gives me assurance.
Meanings of love change every day and every year. But core, the warmth, remains.
