When i wrote about you , I always used metaphors regarding the worldly elements.

This was because my mind could not comprehend your beauty,
It always used to associate it with something close-by ...

Like  your passion and how it soared harder than the wind , or the tone of your voice in the late hours of the night, it was course and hard like grains of sand.
Or how when we held hands , our skin glided above our bones like slow rivers flowing downhill.

I still cannot comprehend your beauty ...or the fact that something as astonishing as the brightest star could be as destrustrive as the most frustrated fire .

The morning is fine and full of confidence
By afternoon hope is lost
Midday is turning into despair
Evening doesn't even stand a chance

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

What am I
When our lips are miles apart
And the words
you whisper
Are not for me
What am I
When you run your fingers
Through the hair
Of an unknown beauty
One of many
What am I
When you give me wings
To fly away
but cut them off
As you please
What am I
When your eyes are blind
To the pain you cause
When you call me love
What am I
My love
What am I to you

Oh the nostalgia,
Oh memory lane,
a poet's dream that we try to capture
in vain
because the essence of what once was,
is never the same,
as the situation is
and that is beautiful.
Beautifully lame.
Because how can one song
Trigger a lifetime of memories
If the song has no real meaning to you.
But it was the feeling,
The freedom,
The risk,
And that's why it triggers so many thoughts and memories
Pain and happiness,
And if I cry in the middle of class
While writing this,
Then it's okay,
I can feel
I can feel
I can feel.

Your silence does not taunt me anymore

I've learned to listen
not to your words
nor your actions

I listen to chirping birds
and buzzing bumble bees

you're haughty smile does not suffocate me anymore

I've learned to feel
not  your icy touch
nor your forceful grip

I feel the wind in my hair
and the sun dancing on my skin


I don't need your silence
I don't need your arrogant touch
I've learned to live
my soul and nature all in one