I ached for you last night,
and I yearned and I cried and I shaked for you last night.

I wanted nothing but to be near you,
to hear your heartbeat in your chest.

But I did not want to break you down,
or put this love to rest.

I dreamt of you lying beside me last night,
and I kissed you and I held you and I felt you last night.

I traced out the moon beams surrounding your spine,
and kissed every ligament, still hoping you're mine.

But before I could sleep, and before I could slumber,
I readied my mind and I phoned to your number.

I wanted you to come here to me,
and I wanted you to be near.

But with wanting and heartache I hung up that phone,
and I watched the blood moon appear.

(i.r)

Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.

You told me that you were
Going to find yourself

As you walked into the ocean,
You never looked back

Every night I wished to the stars
That you would return

I must have been wishing to the moon
Because you never did