While holding your hand
My life became a dream.
You are the joy that
I never thought I deserved.
You fill my gaps and pores,
And make me enough,
And sometimes more than whole.
Your kiss became the reason,
That wakes me up every morn
And your love was the gift and bribe
To fight my addiction and fears.
I revealed to you all my stuck unfallen tears.
And you dried every last of drops
With just the warmth of your embrace.
But poetry is my gift
And poesy is my curse
And so is the distance between us.
I weep and long for your love
But those teardrops offer only verses.
And grant me no solacement.
But only loneliness and remind
Me of my brokenness
Tossing me back
In a pool of misery,
In a ring of questions
Whose answer will only invite pain and sorrow.
Just like yesterday, like a prosaic morrow
Where hues of rainbow are lost
And I still haven’t found me in all my identities.
But in those few moments of knowing
I remember being near you.
For the nearer I stayed to you,
The nearer I stayed to me.
In those moments I felt like the last candle
In the abyss of darkness,
Like the light on moonless night.
And I, for once did what was right
And not twist truth with colorful lies,
Just my love as clear as cloudless skies.
I’m incapable to think of anything but you
That’s how kinship restrain my art
When I’ve given up my heart to you.
And dead are my dire demons
When your touch caresses my spirit,
And faint is my naughtiness.
And like never before surges happiness
Over my mind and heart and spirit.
And that is what blurs my demonic eye
And freezes down flames of my fiery wings.
You teach me benevolence, poem teaches despondence.
You me me feel coziness, poem teaches nothingness.
I chose you a little too late.
Now I’m just different; miserable, broken, dark, demented soul.
But with you I was complete and whole.
This distance between us like poesy is my curse,
Only because poetry is my gift.