There is Never Enough Time to Love Someone

I wish I’d hugged you tighter,
kissed you harder,
looked at you better.
Because now
I am sad that I miss you.

I wish you were here
And not there.

I am missing your cheekbones
And your passionate lips
I miss stroking your rough beard
and your soft skin underneath.

I wish I were laying in bed with you
With your head on your favorite pillow
And mine nestled on your chest 
Between the crook of your arm
My favorite place in the world.
Your gentle hands
And strong arms
hold me tightly
As I run my hands through your chest hair,
And lower still
As I fall asleep.

But now,
I am wishing you would come back.

Monsters in her nightmares
love to pin her down
until her lungs start to collapse
And she considers giving up.
But the voices awaken her
Fearful enough to chase her tormentors away.
They hiss,
They taunt her,
“You’re a failure.”
“You’re not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not intelligent anymore.”
“You’re psychotic.”
“Better off dead.”
Suffocating every crevice of her mind.
She screams,
Trying to tune them out
But they speak louder
She cries,
Begging them to please,
“Oh please, be quiet.”
“Leave me alone, please.”
“So that I can be strong again.”

FAREWELL MY LOVE

Nightmares of my Soul

Part I.

I wake up, startled
To dark shadows shifting and whispering
I panic, kicking
But instead,
I am floating
To the top of the ceiling
I stare down at myself
Hiding beneath the covers
Holding onto him
Fearing my worst nightmares.

My fingers brush against the cold glass
Leaving trails in the dust
And I float through the window
Time does not exist
Distance is simply irrelevant
Long Beach is within thoughts

My Mustang is where I left him
I go for a drive 
Racing down Bolsa Chica
The streets of Seal Beach flash by
The golden glow of streetlights
Are blurred by tears
As I think of leaving
The only permanent treasure of mine I have ever known.

Part II.

There are two bright headlights 
In my lane
Oncoming
Closer, closer
I am okay with this
I let the events unfold
Because if I cannot love him
Then no one else can.

Part III.
I float back to the mountains
Where I drop myself
Back to my sleeping vessel
And in the morning
We wake up like always
But nobody has a clue, what has(n’t) happened.

The water sprays down
hitting my face,
but I do not care anymore.

I embrace his touch
and close my eyes
facing the relentless water.

My arms somehow fit perfectly around his waist 
(have they always?)
And I trace my fingers down his back, 
reading unspoken words.

Droplets form on the cold window,
separating the steamy atmosphere
from the chilly mountain breeze.
Drops burst in silence,
veinous streams pregnant with emotions.

Outside,
the sky is black,
with the breathing of a sleeping world.

Is it midnight? 
Four in the morning? Six, perhaps?
It is impossible to fathom,
for our sleep patterns are so fucked up
just like everything else.

The shitty showerhead starts screaming again
(the water pressure is low),
And my gaze snaps back,
from the dark world
to his pale face:
white with soapy suds.

He leans his face under the water,
and I lean too, halfway:
Meeting his lips under the fall.

Cigarette Smoke

I listen to the sounds of the metal knife
scraping butter across your slightly burnt toast.

I am instantly taken back
and reminded of a time:
When Max
blew cigarette smoke upon my unstained face.
Now we are the ones standing on separate bridges,
facing opposite directions
and chuckling with the wind.

The current flows steadily but swiftly,
and we are going our separate ways
Though the waves keep us connected
and very much involved in each other’s affairs.

I hope the best for him,
and I see he is doing just that.

Months come and go:

We sit together in the morning sipping our coffees
in my car finding adventure
on the cold mountain top
in the warm bath sipping beers
on the couch when the world is asleep
at night holding each other.

I watch your moonlit mouth 
sing softly to me.

And like rain,
I fell for you.

Tiger

You’re a warm Tiger
Look into my soul
With your set of pale emeralds
transparent in the light.

I love the look in your eyes,
and the crook of your arm;
the way you helped me breathe,
my soul back into me.

And I’ve been wondering:
the exact shade of your hair
Ashen maple?
Or mahogany that’s lost its color?

But you, Tiger:
You are gold.
A drop of synergy
fallen from the stars.

With you the sunlight pours
on the rainiest days.
Like a break in the clouds.
Bringing the light out.

And you, Tiger:
You have dark stripes.
How do your days end?
I will be your starlight.

missangiehong:

the end of a chapter
but here’s to a new one
with my car and I

ready for roadtrips
but you are here too
riding in the passenger seat

my car is my lifeline
but so are you
I cannot lose either.

missangiehong:

I tried hopelessly
to swim to the surface
fighting the currents
dragging me under.

In fact,
I am still fighting.
As I write this.
But I have met someone.
And I am happy.

I love that look in your eyes
and the crook of your arm

the way you helped me breathe
my soul back into me.

Leaking from the next room
are melodies dropping from your guitar
the one with mother-of-pearl frets
and also deep mahogany wood
—not quite as beautiful as your voice

the notes drift into my dreams

there is a still in the air
as your gentle lips kiss me good morning
the sun’s rays are tossed and spilled
onto the sea of blankets

your gently tousled hair (almost ashen)
and your faded green eyes
—they speak to me a thousand truths

too much for me to handle

as I watch the crinkles around your eyes
and the delicate hairs on your arm
light up into golden fields
—how many years have passed?

four? ten? sixty?
How old is your soul?

Iceberg Tip

I love you because of who you are. I love you because you have a kind heart and a peaceful soul. A demeanor worthy of admiration, and a character brimming with integrity. I love you because you give me belief in all things I do, and hope for the future. I am in love with your mind and its thoughts, your loving heart,and your clever wit. I love the way your perfect eyelashes flutter when you blink, and the depth I see in your hazel eyes. This is only the iceberg tip of the reasons why I love you. And to think, it has only been the iceberg tip of our future together.

I don’t think a soulmate has to be your lover

It could be a sibling or a friend. Or a stranger. It could be somebody you’ve known all your life but never actually known them. It could be somebody you once exchanged glances with on the sidewalk, and then walked away forever. 

You don’t even have to have everything in common, or be the same age, or be brought up the same way. It’s just somebody who connects with you. Your minds are as good as one. And you won’t even believe it until it happens to you. That’s the moment when you realize without a doubt: “This person is my soulmate.” It is as if you were missing a piece of you for an entire lifetime. But you never even realized what you didn’t have until now.

And that’s when you fall in love. Not necessarily a romantic, sexual, fiery love. It could be platonic. It could be anything. But it is real love that lasts.