If I kissed you a little longer and hugged you tighter
Read more books and became a better writer
Would you compare?
If I was a bit reckless and had a dozen tickets
Had a lisp and pronounced your name different
Would you care?
What if I took you to the streets and wanted to slow dance
The cars passing by but I took that chance
Would you dare?
If I wasn’t the best looking and lacked a few traits
Always getting mad because I was usually late
Would you start to swear?
If I was constantly trying and nothing less
For the times I was wrong and needed to confess
Would you still be fair?
If walked out the door and never said goodbye
And one day decided to come back to make things right.
Would you still be there?
I have a box full of letters and a closet full of sweaters. My mood always changed with the weather as if I was under pressure. There was nothing I could do to make things better. And a day without you felt like forever. Everyday you taught me something new like you were my professor. Spending so much time acting like we were together. Even fighting like a couple as if whatever. I cant repay you enough for putting up with my temper. And how we’d get in trouble with a single misadventure. You would take charge like you were the director. Forgetful as I am, you would always remember. You brought joy to my life, like the 25th of December. And how I loved the scent you left on that polyester. How you would look so good in that leather with your long hair softer than heather. Not once did I consider you as a prize but more of a treasure. And if I captured all the Pokemon in the world I’d still consider you more rarer. If my chromosomes were matched different I’d still love you no matter the gender. No matter what happened you’d always have a place in my heart and you can call that shelter. You were the knees bees and the salt to my pepper. We made a better team than the Avengers. Always giving you piggy back rides because you were light as a feather. I’d always protect you like the Dark Knight, rest in peace Heath Ledger. I would never walk out on you even if it stings because pain is pleasure. And how I never felt a woman’s touch more gentler. From the bone of your cheek to your soft texture. Such a natural beauty that Snow White would be jealous because you were more fairer. Not to mention how your love was as sweet as nectar. And if we were ever at war, I’d fight for you like Troy versus Hector.
I am trapped in a high, above tower, looking around at the people who surround me. Wishing that someday I can be released.
I see all your smiling faces and think to myself what makes you happy, or if you are just putting on a smile. Your teeth start to glimmer up at me, like the sun, it shines upon me.
I then look out my window and stare into the deep, dark sky, pondering over what could be? Or will I ever be let free? Next, I look over to the moon, how it gives me light when I am dark. I see the moon as if it were giving me the answers, telling me what to do, or what’s going to happen next.
As I say farewell to the moon and the sky, I lock my windows and shut my eyes. But then, I am quickly awoken by the sounds of screaming and fright. I look around - nothing there. So, I close my eyes again. And then I hear another scream of pain, a scream of lost, a scream of agony. But nothing is there. I then decide to keep my eyes open, and hope that I was just dreaming.
I wasn’t. I then see a shadow creep across the floor from the corner of my eye. I see a monster. A monster who is going to capture and kill me. I yell for help, I yell for anybody to help me. No one comes. No one comes, since I am trapped in this tower. I am alone. I am afraid. All I want is to be freed of this tower - someday, I will.
Original Poem: "Nineveh"
I’d sooner sail for Tarshish than admit
Your voice commanded anything at all;
much less that it called anything a sin.
If You would have me call You God, don’t call.
And when my boat is battered by Your winds,
I’ll laugh off any blame cast by the lots.
I’ll owe no love to enemies nor friends.
The voice of God asks nothing I don’t want.
And when Your fish at last spits me aground
I’ll preach no word but hellfire from the sky.
I’ll stitch sackcloth and ash into a crown
in worship of my god, my true god—I
persist in my refusal to believe
You’d have me worship anything but me.