That Beauty

She's taller than me...
Now,
I know what you're thinking
But it's only an inch or two.
And even though she wants green contacts,
I think her brown eyes match her hair better.
And when those tears fall like knives,
They cut open my chest and expose my racing heart,
While it wants to leap out,
Only to beat until it dies.
But when she smiles,
Those perfect teeth glisten and dance
To their white song of joy.
And my faded,
Yellow,
Crooked teeth just stand there wishing they could do the same.
She has it,
That beauty.
That beauty that never ceases to make my jaw drop,
Making my lungs gasp for air
Because I forgot how to breathe.
She has it.
That beauty.

That night,
Sitting in the car,
Hearing the sounds of the voices on the radio...
Listening to the fish that she caught flop around in that Hay's Market bag.
I hold her hand because no one is looking.
Just like she likes.
Even though she has to shift gears,
I grip her dainty,
Petite,
Fingers with my
Big,
Rough,
Hands.
Holding tight
Like the mother holding her child's hand so he doesn't run off.
I held her hand for dear life.

I kissed you that night.
Our first.
How romantic...
My hands covered in the smell of fish,
Afraid to get it on you so I use my forearms for pull you near.
And when our lips met,
I felt the heavens resting upon mine.
Not quite on my tip-toes,
But looking up slightly,
Because remember...
She's taller than me,
But only by an inch or so.

As we drove that night,
you wouldn't know it,
but a single tear fell down my cheek.
Pure joy.
Surreal.
I cleaned your fish so you could take it home to eat.
I handed you your fish.
You gave me a kiss.

Goodnight.
Goodnight my sweet,
My flower plucked from the most beautiful of meadows.
I picked you...
And you let me.

Our second date.
I never told you but I sad i couldn't hold your hand in front of everyone at that chinese restaurant.
But I was with an angel too holy to touch,
So it made sense.

You had to leave the next day.
So did I.
Seperate destinations.
One thing on my mind,
That beauty.
How that beaufitul woman brought to this hellish earth from the heavens,
Likes me.
How could I be so lucky,
That a boy,
Not a man,
Could have found a creature so gorgeous,
And so astounding,
That loves me as much as I love her?

But there is one problem...
Only one flaw...
1000 miles.
But oh,
That beauty...
I would go an eternity being a million miles away,
Rather than not know you at all.

Sitting on the airplance back to reality,
I can't stop playing with that piece of paper.
The piece of paper which to the naked eye is meaningless and silly,
But to me it means everything.
It is the fortune from that cookie on our second date.
Yea...
I still have it.
"You have been given special blessings."
And yea...
I know.

Johnny

Here I am again.
Like the captain of a ship,
This pen and pad are my vessel.
I care for them.
Never letting them leave y sight or my thoughts.
The ink flows from this pen,
As does the emotion from my heart...
And from this I will never part.
She never knew it, but this is my true love.
The one I loved before her
And the one that never stopped loving me.
All these tears from sadness or happiness fall on the paper,
Like the angels that fall from the sky,
Dragging with them the high hopes and dreams of the children that are trapped inside each of us,
Wanting to get out but we won't let them.
Too busy with our jobs and bills to pay attention to the little one inside.
The laugh that creeps out of our mouths every time we see that stupid commercial
Is the closest that that young child comes to escaping.
Why don't we tear ourselves open,
Leaving our bodies gaping.
Letting out little Johnny and Susie,
To run,
And laugh,
And play?
But instead we just go about our day.
Never wondering or thinking about what it would be like to let go,
But otherwise think of the bills we need to pay.
And so I write.
I find my love again,
Because I am guilty,
Guilty of keeping the little one hidden away.
Not wanting him to come out because I am too afraid of what people will think.
Instead I write,
Letting him out this way.
I write.
This is what we both love.
He likes to go from my heart,
And my head,
Through my fingertips,
Into this pen,
Only to spill onto this small canvas...
In sloppy writing and confusing wording.
But he loves it,
I know he does,
Because that child is me.
The pen dancing intricately on the ballroom floor that others will call paper.
So here I am again.
This is my vessel.
Never giving it up.
And never letting it go.

My One True Love:Poetry

It had been a long time since I have written anything.
I wrote this the other night because I was depressed and I couldnt sleep.

Interrogation

I whisper,
Only to wait for what seems to be an eternity.
Cashing in my hopes and dreams all in one question.
Waiting for the simplest of answers.
Waiting...
Waiting...
Like that guy that served us that night at the pancake house.
Patient.
Impatient.
A nervous chuckle.
Waiting...
Waiting...
No answer.
I whisper again.
"What will become of me?
This life of meaningless encounters with those I do know
And those I don't know."
I heard the answer.
There are no smiles.
Wanting to end my life
At the sound of the voice of the one I am exchanging life stories with,
Laughs,
And tears.
It comes to me,
As if I was dreaming.
I hear it and the tears stream down my face,
Like the blood pouring from his sweat glands,
Never ceasing to flow.
I grow weak and weary,
Exhausted from the deep scourging breaths
Coming from my diaphragm
As it if were coming from the pit of darkness.
The pits of hell.
Burning me from inside out.
The answer resonates through my body,
My core,
My soul.
Pounding like the war drums of time,
Never letting me forget those that I have loved,
And those that I have hated.
Destroying me from the inside out.
And then it happens.
Stillness.
Silence.
I shiver from the coldness I am left with.
It is gone.
All I have wanted.
All I have hoped for.
All I have worked for.
Gone.
And in this stillness comes the beauty.
The beauty in the loneliness.
Being left with only the thought of what coul have been.
But because I am alone,
There is no one to comfort me.
No one to look up to.
Nothing that can make me smile.
It is all gone and amiss.
Everything.
Everyone.
Gone.
And just when I think I will wake up from this horrid terror,
I realize this is no jest.
No dream.
I fall to my knees in defeat.
The tears dried on my now ruddy cheeks.
No sound.
No movement.
No hope.
Only the heart beating slowly but surely in my chest.
And I am left wondering....
Waiting...

forest gump

I saw this movie for the first time in a long time last night.
It was beautiful.
I cried.
Yes, I am a man. I have hair on my tummy.
Hair on my face.
I am a big boy.
But I am okay with crying.
I do it on occasion.
The undying love that Forest had for Jenny is a lost art in my generation. I look around and 1 out of the 10 average kids will probably make a name for himself, while the others just go out, party, and hook up.
I hate to say it, but romance is dead.
Sorry ladies, that is just how it is.
The idea of romance to a guy today is taking a girl out and giving her flowers in hopes of making it back to her bedroom that night.
The idea of romance to me, is watching Charlie at work, (who has gtta be 70 something) go home every night to feed his wife so she will live.
If not romance, at the very LEAST, it is true love.
Something else that is also very dead.