what are gifts for, if not to wrap the ends of your trace
where boldly, we are lanscaped memories, where liquors
dance in both art and melody. this is why you unearth a
malaise developing in which roads are unforeseen.
taking the laps of an unalterable semblance crawling
its way back to your recapture, to your retentiveness.
this is where i stop believing that you existed for my
unsatisfied redemption, for you gash me intricately
through those words that soil my mind unendingly.
let me not palliate the tampered heart you once let me
carry, and so till the hopeless now. you revise those waters
and turned them to fiber, which unfalteringly, i cannot
live without.somehow i feel so untamed, in an unrest
that goes through nowhere and forebodes no one and
nothing. funny how my weakness finds peace in your
bloodiness, how my anguish adores your constant vexing,
how my sacrifice becomes impaired and flawed. all because
you made them to be that: to be your unruled imposition
made out of your own definition of love. maybe she lives
under the gazes of your dark brown pupils, and the pointed
ends of your long-back hair; still, it is but old and tiring for
me to think you'd relive a tarnished truth, a lie. so which
catches your mistletoe in each christmas i'm entitled
to another memory you've left in my soul's cupboard. so which
leaves me to be the being which i hated for so long.
and we wait once again as the leaves shed to form the
stars i never saw, the stars the waves never learned to
play with, to touch and to discover. so much for that ravage,
for which caused the reason why i could never hear, see
and walk again in that light, on that cobblestone of sticks
and bones, which still continue to cause me pain. now
i end this day, forgetting how i could ever evoke the perfection
which summons me just the same. perhaps this day is for him.
but oh, how i wish, just how i wish, i can borrow even just
a fracture of a second that belongs to its unselfish history.
**this is probably one of my personal faves in all the poems i've written... considering i only wrote it now while i'm scrambling to post something in my blog for Christmas eve...
where boldly, we are lanscaped memories, where liquors
dance in both art and melody. this is why you unearth a
malaise developing in which roads are unforeseen.
taking the laps of an unalterable semblance crawling
its way back to your recapture, to your retentiveness.
this is where i stop believing that you existed for my
unsatisfied redemption, for you gash me intricately
through those words that soil my mind unendingly.
let me not palliate the tampered heart you once let me
carry, and so till the hopeless now. you revise those waters
and turned them to fiber, which unfalteringly, i cannot
live without.somehow i feel so untamed, in an unrest
that goes through nowhere and forebodes no one and
nothing. funny how my weakness finds peace in your
bloodiness, how my anguish adores your constant vexing,
how my sacrifice becomes impaired and flawed. all because
you made them to be that: to be your unruled imposition
made out of your own definition of love. maybe she lives
under the gazes of your dark brown pupils, and the pointed
ends of your long-back hair; still, it is but old and tiring for
me to think you'd relive a tarnished truth, a lie. so which
catches your mistletoe in each christmas i'm entitled
to another memory you've left in my soul's cupboard. so which
leaves me to be the being which i hated for so long.
and we wait once again as the leaves shed to form the
stars i never saw, the stars the waves never learned to
play with, to touch and to discover. so much for that ravage,
for which caused the reason why i could never hear, see
and walk again in that light, on that cobblestone of sticks
and bones, which still continue to cause me pain. now
i end this day, forgetting how i could ever evoke the perfection
which summons me just the same. perhaps this day is for him.
but oh, how i wish, just how i wish, i can borrow even just
a fracture of a second that belongs to its unselfish history.
**this is probably one of my personal faves in all the poems i've written... considering i only wrote it now while i'm scrambling to post something in my blog for Christmas eve...
[jeez... Christmas, and still, I think of him... Happy Birthday Jess!!! all my love.]
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