sweet poetry

I wish that I’d met you sooner…
But having you come into my life just now makes me happy because it’s like life smiles and whispers, “it’s never too late.
—  E.G. // Life is full of surprises and I’m glad you’re one of them.

           May everything about this place
           remove me from myself.

And this is the sickness talking,
the part of me so spoiled, rotting in the blood.
But so much of what I want
is to be less a person.

To be instead a word
too beautiful to fit inside my own
fevered, mumbling mouth.

           When I imagine myself
           I am barely there.

— Clementine von Radics, from “Sweet the Sound,” Dream Girl

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
my heart beat with fear.

In her eyes
decision made firm
standing close, yet not touching.

Object of my obsession
secret fantasy
so close to me.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
my heart would not let me flee.

In my mind
battles of immense proportion
logic and lust at odds.

Object of my obsession
made unreal through fantasy
here before me.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
our lips did touch.

In my soul
clouds of darkness rarely noticed
almost painful as light shined through.

Object of my obsession
honeyed lips don’t really exist
how have I now tasted them?

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
our lips parted.

In my eyes
the world spun before me
only she was still and clear.

Object of my obsession
recognition from a kiss
I knew her once before.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
mischief was her smile.

In my childhood dreams
when days had turned bad
she ran with me in sun washed fields.

Object of my obsession
always laughing as she took my hand
her smile my salvation.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
questions between us.

In my heart
both warmth and cold
dreams from childhood don’t come true.

Object of my obsession
since before time she existed
undoubtedly foreordained.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
waiting out an unending moment.

In my moment
blinded by confusion
the path was not clear before me.

Object of my obsession
in and out of time
always unreal mine.

We stood
she and I
without knowing reason
I bid her a sweet farewell.

In my entire being
furious thunderstorms
never peace shall I see.

Object of my obsession
a cruel joke on me
she’s what love was meant to be.

I stood
all alone
loathing my reason
despair is what reason gifts me.

—  Aarron Laidig, Knowing Reason 

Let’s be friends,” she stated, holding out her hand.

.

“I like you too,” she blushed.

.

“Yes! I will!” she cried out, jumping with joy.

.

“I do,” she smiled through her tears.

.

‘Forever,’ said those years.

—  E.G. Growing up is hard to do,
but bearable when done with you.

I want to run to you. I want to hold
you in my arms, seal your cracks
with a kiss and gold. I want to be
your crying shoulder. I want to be
the space your hands long for. Make
me your home, your refuge. I will
make you mine.

I want to walk with you through
the night. I want you to lay open
your heart and soul so that I can
mend them. I will do the same. Mend
me, kiss me, do what you will. I want
to fold the distance between us into
a single point and bury it in memory.

I want to take the hole in your chest
and fill it with butterflies of every
shape, size and color. I want to take
you into my arms and cling to you
when you despair. I want to open up
your heart and eyes and show you
that I care. That you can trust in this
love with all of your heart. I don’t care
that you fear. I just want you.

Stop saying you can’t; you can. You just don’t know how yet.
—  E.G. // From someone who wishes you’d believe in yourself like they believe in you.