By my side, down to ride,
holding, never folding,
always consoling.
Forever, I’m hoping,
secrets, but you know them.
Glowing,
consistency, always showing,
giving, never owing.
Loving,
If I go, are you going?
Flowing, never controlling.
I begged the Universe for you,
but she said myself I am still outgrowing.
I prayed, I prayed, I prayed.
She said he is on the way, on the way, on the way.
I trust in your timing, okay.
She said he will come, and he will stay.
But still I pray, every day.
–S.
You sigh, and I am the reason.
How did our love not last more than a season?
I want to cry, but the dam of my pride holds my tears at bay.
You lie, and you are the reason.
But you say you want to stay.
‘We die,’ and part ways. But you call anyway.
–S.
They say it’s always the darkest before dawn,
But not for me.
The thought of you lights up my mind,
Making it too bright to see.
I glow before the sun ever has a chance to show.
They say it’s always the darkest before dawn,
But not for me.
–S.
You unwrap me slowly, petal by petal.
You find that I am softest in the middle.
–S.
Red Flames,
Blue Flames,
Yearning.
For your body,
I am burning.
–S.
Intertwined,
what’s yours is mine,
your heart beats,
always in sync, like mimes,
and we float on together,
through time.
–S.
I was disappearing when you saw me.
I was disappearing, but you touched me.
I was disappearing and then you loved me.
–S.
Lonesome, you make me so blue.
Lonesome, still in love with you.
Lonesome, like the moon.
Lonesome, praying to forget you soon.
–S.
You leave, I am an abandoned house.
With splintered wood, and a floor that is caving in.
You leave, I am a dusty attic.
Filled with faded photographs and untouched cardboard boxes.
You leave, I am a car that doesn’t drive.
With rusting metal and flat tires.
You leave, but I am still here.
–S.
You come to me in a dream, nothing is as it seems.
You come to me in a dream, flying with black wings.
You come to me in a dream, glowing like an ultralight beam.
You come to me in a dream, this is a nightly reoccurring theme.
In a dream, you seem, made of sweet creme.
In real life, a man with a scheme.
Oh, but, in a dream.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 