The kindness of his heart,
the starlight in his eyes,
the firmness in his shoulder,
create the sunniest of skies.
To know he knows I love him,
to know he knows I care,
to yearn to kiss his tender lips,
and hold his every stare.
All the things I'd cherish,
if "he" were even here,
I guess I'll just sit here patiently,
and wait for my beloved dear.
Untitled
Sitting there,
writing in a false sense,
of bettering my chances,
with my "love".
Regretting every mark,
my pencil ever made,
on that coffee-stained paper,
that carried my proclaimation.
Losing him made me want him more.
To see him with her, his hand embracing hers,
makes me feel as if his heart is soaring,
while mine is recovering from the fall.