the night is dark and cold,
only the neon moon exists up above,
it was heavy, a goodbye was told
my heart cracks up and bleeds with love
I pray to heavens for these smithereens,
I am young and I don't long for what could have been's,
I may hit rock bottom but I will preen
these smithereens of an old soul,
so that when the right man who is unforeseen,
arrives to hold my preened heart made whole.

IA

this is a poem of treasured nostalgia;
when Fate wrote what we were supposed to be,
there was rain pouring down hard
two young souls slow dancing in the dark,
his eyes was a mesmerizing art,
his arms were my home, his hand was my guide,
gently tugging me along with my heart
held upon by his other hand,
I held on tightly, enthralled
and yet I breathe exhausted.
I could only last for so long until I ask for my heart back,
all the love for myself drains, running my soul into a drag race
"Where are we heading?" I asked, we're all heading to finish line
"What then if we do?" I asked, and I answered before he could,
we both loved, both break, both hurt, and both end by then,
the scenery blurs,
the time slows down
my breathing begins to even,
our hands so tightly clasped loosened,
I took my heart with grief, anxiety, and fear
even before I could know what the finish line could be.

IA

I can say every word ever created
but it will never mean the same thing
it does to me that it does to you