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Old 08-06-2014, 02:59 PM   #361
So-Called New-Age(d) Poet
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Join Date: Aug 2007

Written by: Cyclones41

Before tonight, I’d never written a love letter.
Before tonight I tried to ink my love to you, but a
lover does not love make, so instead I wrote fear.
I wrote the fear of being alone
and the fear of not being enough
and the fear of being way too much.
I wrote the fear that I had never existed without.

Until tonight.
Tonight, I write a love letter to the lover I never expected
I would be able to rest my fingers on:

Dear Self,
Your hands, they rest on your chest,
that part of you you’d go months without looking at,
and here, now, your hands find a home.
What used to be the cause of tear, after tear, after tear,
those breasts,
now they are pecs,
and you can’t stop looking at them with the eyes of a lover.
I swear, if you could look in the eyes of the two most in-love men,
they’d look like the eyes of murderers compared to yours.

And honey, your voice is deep.
It’s not the smooth, sexy baritone you always thought it’d be,
but it’s the perfect amount of deep for me.
When you sing, I can hear your heart in a way
it never spoke before, and every time your lips
have the courage to speak your truth, I know you’re speaking to me.

There are still lines on your chest from where they cut
you open, or better yet, where they sewed you shut,
and there’s a band-aid on your leg where you prick yourself
with the needle that holds the juice that puts hair on your face.
And you, you’re still a mountain range,
with highs higher than the highest of heights
and lows that go so low you could swear they’ve never seen the sunshine
but the difference—the difference now is that
you don’t want or need a way out.

So tonight, I write a truth to you that sits deeper
in me than anything has before:

I love you.
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Old 08-22-2014, 05:41 AM   #362
So-Called New-Age(d) Poet
seventh_angel's Avatar
Join Date: Aug 2007

one-hundred thousand
Written by: NGD1313

almost one hundred
thousand on
the odometer
and i still haven't
seen a thing;

i am sorry
for more than distance
can cover

and you -
with midnight at your back,
smiling sleepily
at something
that is far beyond me
somehow still on the run
as i am
eating apples from your eyes
and pushing 101.
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