?

Log in

No account? Create an account

OH · NO, · SHE'S · NOT · A · SECRET · NOW!


(but nobody cares.)

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *

i want that home to be ours. i want to be yours.

i want to be alongside you as you grow, meanwhile letting our affection grow strong and firm.

and one day, when you are ready, it will be time for us too.

i dont want another day to go by without being yours, and you being mine.

is this so much to ask? i know you feel it. just stop thinking. we can make it, if you listen to your love and not your logic.

* * *
there are reflections of you in everything that i do.
* * *

i could love you

i would love you.       

wholly, passionately, and with every ounce of dedication that can be wrung from my swollen heart.

* * *
your rugged beauty
refined my brashness

i will miss you, friend
for you have made me a woman

* * *
"I firmly believe that when our material things "break" or "stop working" it's just time to move forward onto something new, with new energy...must be time for a new guitar, and a shift in energy! Release it with love & gratitude! :)"
* * *
* * *
i have tried to distract myself from looking for you by becoming a strong, independent, accomplished, passionate woman in the meantime.

so, here i am, proud and ready.

why have you not found me yet?

when will you come?

* * *

my bones were forged
in the ice fire turmoil
of the flat midwest
here i spent my youth
in chaos and rebellion
lacking grace, rugged and bold
as the brash biting winter winds

amongst saguaros i have become
a better, more salient moon
my frame has refined, my mind
has blossomed, and i have wrapped
my arms open and wide around wisdom
and freedom and a sleepy peace.
i still have metal in my nose and rock
in my veins, and forthrightness on my lips
but instead of screaming,

i sing


(yet through it all
the longing for a love deep and dedicated,
passionate and true, has never waivered.
who are you
where are you
when are you
meeting me here?)

* * *
shhhh, shhhhhhhhh.
he isn't going anywhere.
so don't grasp. don't choke.
and don't lasso him in.
(he is not a stallion to be tamed;
he is complete the way he is)

instead, move stealthily but sweetly
in and out of his days
and if it is meant to be, he will come
to you, with an open request
for your heart to be his

* * *

my dear friend,

  you've got a tough job
  ahead of you. i have recently
  fallen out of love ferociously
  and fearlessly free i feel.

  i have decided to dedicate
  my life to myself, my heart to
  a happiness, solitary and strong.

  and here you come
  along, singing high into my sunrise
  your ideas of us, after 10 years of silence
  and platonic partiality

  to be frank, i don't
  believe this. i don't believe that i
  am awake, that this will last, that you
  will really want me when you mull it over more.

  so i remain guarded. good luck.

sincerely,
your dear friend


(PSssst- i will give you a hint, knight:
i want to be yours, you
just have to prove actively
you, too, want me
as your queen)

* * *
i do not weep for you
my love.

i no longer cling
to the lining of your underbelly and how
you used to tell me i was
beautiful/
your face was seared into my retina
but i razored it out, slicing you
from my sight

i do not weep for you
my loss.

i no longer cling
to the future of memories, 3 dimensional
and so so real/
the truth is,
you were never right
for me

and i shake and shake and shear and sail
i've sighed and swalloed this choking pill
i shrug and sleep and most definitely
i do not weep,
for you, my lost love
for you, my joy.

i weep for the rotten fruit we left to sugar on the vine
overladen with its own syrupy sweetness, fermenting odorous
the time came for our love to be picked
but oh, we are so young and foolish, in feeling
but not speaking,  and loving
but not living.  i weep, my long gone,
for our ghost of what we never embraced
i weep, radost moya,
for our capacity left untouched

but it sturdies me to know
that it would not have made a difference
anyway.

this poem is the end,
of what could have been
a fairytale, but instead it fades
into the ether, as if
it never existed.
this poem is the end, radost moya.
para ti, radost moya.
para mi, radost moya.
para radost moya, sin tu,
y tu, sin yo.

это начало
* * *
* * *

Previous · Next