A lonely bedroom, a single rose.

A person that likes me for me, down to the nose.

A person that thinks as I think and beyond.

A person that makes magic happen without a wand.

A person that cries when I cry and still sees nothing wrong.

A person that calls me on the phone when I hurt and sings my favorite song.

A person that cooks me a meal, just so that they could hold my hand.

A person that listens to me and always understands.

A person that calms me down when hurt made me hype.

My friend is that single rose that brings my lonely bedroom to life.

you’re a cowboy like me; riding your horse, waiting for sunrise to leave for city.

'tis the damn season, you told yourself would be your last in the cottage.

even the dive bar has a drink on your name.

you look for smirk in every smile that greets you.

'tis the damn season, you told yourself would be your last on rodeo.

they don’t grow your crops, don’t even play your songs on radio.

you’re a cowboy like me; wishing to leave the small village in peace.

'tis the damn season, horseshoe rusted just like your blood when you told your folks about your sun-witnessed visions.

the spark in you has become a fire and now it’s burning where your soul meets your bones.

you wonder if you could be an eagle or would you be knot in tangled threads.

'tis the damn season, you told yourself to embody your intention and not plan your actions.

you’re a cowboy like me; tired of being grass beneath people’s feet.

ghosts tell you folktales when you asked them to hear ye.

'tis the damn season, you told yourself to use your lasso to cross the marsh of fervent believes.

because you’re a cowboy like me; left your place to find somewhere you could sleep with security.

riding your horse, you faded into silhouette.

i promise that i’ll meet you down the road because you’re a cowboy like me.

*

*

*

Book characters can be friends too! XD

sunlight painting

pictures on the pavement

wishing i could hold you

near

daylight fading

facing i’m alone but

forever

i'll cherish you

dear.

Frigid January night;

Blossoms curled, asleep,

Awaiting warm April.

Frosty February dawn;

Blossoms huddle, patient,

Hints of spring.

Blustery March morning;

Trees unfurl tender green sails,

Worship the resurrected sun.

Brilliant April afternoon,

Blossoms explode, a blizzard;

Frothy pink and white.

God willing, you will be home,

And see for yourself,

The cherry blossoms on Wooster Square

This April.

Triggers…

so many things could be triggers

movies, songs, memories, a piece of old cloth, a sticky note

or one misplaced silver earring of yours…

Until I realized that all the old entangled memories

good or bad

were all part of your enchanted characters…

Your quirky jokes,

clumsy sense of humor

or the unique way how your flipped my heart

I wish I could think of you with less aching episodes of ups and downs,

but more of your sweet peachy nectarine inner characters.

I pray for the colorful majestic Autumn Wind of upstate New York,

give us one last chance of a tangled dance,

sweeping away every untouched

niches standing in-between you and me,

we could finally shake hands and

put a happy ending for our shared memories.

I have a poem to send,

To you, my dearest friend.

I'm already tired of rhyming though,

So I'll get to the point.

I just saw you last week, for the first time in over a year.

We went swimming

And I got a sunburn.

But the point is-

I'M FINALLY TALLER THAN YOU!

HAHAHA!

Well, thanks for all the good times!

Hope they go on!

Even through hardships,

Death and loss,

I will be there for you,

To comfort you,

Or just to provide a listening ear,

I have no plans to leave,

Either in a car with packed boxes,

Or in a coffin with church bells,

So take off the mask that you use to hide,

Lower your shields just enough,

That I can get through,

Accept the invite to my birthday party,

And maybe hang out with me,

I promise you won't get hurt again,

I am here for you.

I found the gap that friendship fills,

From the buttercups and daffodils,

I found life as you found youth,

We both knew of suffering, and of truth,

What we gave was a new start,

To tend old wounds, mend the heart,

A moment to laugh your gift to me,

A hand on your walk help set you

free

Now my eyes catch the yellow,

As I remember a good fellow.

And in that moment, after the dust had settled, and the silence dripped with regret of the words said. I realised... they were not made that I loved him...

They were made because he kept breaking me, and they had to constantly pick up the pieces that ripped through their flesh. They were mad because he hurt me and they cared to much to see me in the amount of pain that almost left lead me to my emotional grave.

and that was when I knew I could never blame them, for I would have done the same...