(So, I was digging through old emails, and I stumbled across this poem I wrote five years ago. Five years ago! It wasn’t on this site because I wrote it back on Blogger, and I haven’t posted in months, so I’m reposting it now. For those you that haven’t gone this far back, this is my old writing style.)
She loves him
As pure, some would say, as God’s love for them
She holds it, breathes it
Shows it, believes it
But she will not make full commitment
She feels that she has no right to cuff even though for her, he would turn himself in with no questions.
When they touched, she held out her wrists and cardiac was immediately arrested.
He stilled her heart
Easily unsealed the lock to it and made sure he protected it.
“I love you.”
In every way but aloud, she expresses it.
Those three words are shackles
How can she be that bold and let him know that he completes her so
When circumstance beyond her control keeps their communication strictly techno?
Listening over phone
Texting him smiles she hopes will convey the same emo.
Shunning, for now, the wondering how they will meet again.
The image of him in her brain brings a smile to her face
But nothing is the same as being beside him when she rose
So she says it without saying it.
In her eyes, it glows
Never asking him about repaying it.
Why? She knows…
He loves her
Not as pure, some would say, as her love for him
He holds it, breathes it
Shows it, believes it.
But he will not make full commitment
He feels his love is not enough even though for him, she would be the exact measurement
Of affection and trust like persistent medicine to cure his doubt; and make sure his stubbornness accepted it
She willed into his heart
Exceedingly thrilled by how she got to it so effortlessly
“I adore you.”
In every way but aloud, he expresses it.
Those three words. Too deep for Prince to define.
So he tries to get his impatience to subside by putting passion into his pen day and night
Wishing in his poems
Etching his desires and hopes into the pages with the same emo
Shunning, for now, the wondering how he can see her again
He writes about everything
Because to him, that is what she is
He is writing about her
Every noun. Every verb.
Whatever topic is preferred
Within, the poems from his soul give him the similar sensation of whole
Because with her, that is what he is
The reflection of her in his eyes floods his mind with creativity
But nothing can be as good as the bending of time when she was close.
So he says it without saying it.
In his smile, it shows.
Never asking her about repaying it.
Why? She knows.
They love each other
As pure, some would say, as the truth that unconditional love can have outside conditions placed on it.
They hold it, breathe it.
Show it, believe it.
But they will not make full commitment
They feel their love is a crutch, even though for the other, their support is what gets them through this stormy weather.
Until one can construct a raft or bridge similar to the bond that ties them together.
They build through their hearts
Greedily filled with the warmth of knowing in each other’s arms is destiny.
“I miss you.”
In every way but aloud, they express it.
Those three words turn reality dark
But the flame illuminates any shades of gray
And in conversation, they paint.
Mixing the rainbow.
Caressing the canvas with the right strokes to display the same emo
Shunning, for now, the wondering how they can create new memories to use to reminisce.
At this rate and time, distance is a problem they cannot solve
Yes they are fonder but for their impatience, there is no answer in sight
The math is all wrong
It takes too long to get to the why must they wait to reunite
The image of them is beautifully painful
To be so near and so far from the one they chose
So they carry it, each day, and.
In their lives, it grows
Never asking about saying it.
Why? They know.