Oh, but did my love for you emerge and vastly grow

When first I spied you across the room amidst the summer heat.

Within my heart, it was enlightenment as if I did know

That was your presence that made my soul most complete.

There is no other who can fill the emptiness of summer days

With lingering songs of tenderness, truth, and desire

As you, my love, have done for me in all life’s ways.

You are my love, my life, my heart – all to which I aspire.

Sing to me, and we will dance as one beneath the sun,

And I will whisper sweet words with a kiss

Until the moment we are spent and our dance is done

As eagerly we steer toward the eclipse of eternal bliss.

Oh, dearest blossom of summer love, I hold you dear,

Pray, keep me close, forever in your sight and always near.

I looked up into her face with adoration in my eyes. She gazed back at me with the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. My heart began to beat faster as she reached for my hand, and held it in her own. I grasped it tightly, lest she let go. I let my eyes speak my love for her; my overflowing love. She was my all: my very life! Without her I would die, lonely and afraid. But as long as she held me close, I would be just fine.

She leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, "I love you!"

I tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. But, that didn't stop me from looking at her with devotion and a look that meant, "'til death do us part!"

Once more she drew me closer, and whispered, "You'll always be my little baby; even when you've grown..."

I gazed up at her and replied in my heart, "And I will always remember you as my first love... Dearest of Mothers!"

I labeled him a crush for two long years. Those years are gone, yet I haven't said a single hi. I just loved him and stood there like marble and stone. I know that I love him now but was my love a phantom in the past, flickering in and out of shadows and shades?

Is it still a phantom? I believe it is not. I will now label it bright but cold.

They say he is not beautiful but how can they? His soul is so pure and so beautiful that even a blind can see it! Soft and light, his purity is darker than the deepest depths of the deepest abyss; so prominent, so beautiful.

I will label my love an abyss now; unfathomable and infinite. It is undying and it drips like ice, ladled in my every move, and every twist.

I crave and I yearn for someone to scream, "Different than all who live upon the world, ethereal fell short to truly describe your love; never to be understood by mortals of life."

I made love with your memory last night.

It wasn’t something to hide or to be ashamed of.

It wasn’t supposed to become what it feels like now:

Sickening and sad.

I’m sitting in my bed and it’s 3am

and I’m still not sure how I get lost in your embrace after all this time.

Are you someone that means something to me?

Do all people have to mean something?

I suppose if I’m being kind I’d say “yes”.

If I’m being honest, my answer wouldn’t be kind but it would at least be real.

And I can hang my coat on the door this evening and break bread with your memory and know that my desires might be dark but my honesty is unwavering and I can sleep knowing I didn’t lie.

Yet my mouth still molds to the form of your name, my fingers still yearn to find the small of your back, and when everyone else has gone home and the room is empty,

I am there still missing the shit out of you…

I guess what I’m trying to say is,

you did mean something.

“I think I fell in love with you when called me an asshole. Crazy, right? And I very well could be an asshole, depending on who you ask. Anyway, everyone always said you were the sweetest person. You got along with everyone. You helped our classmates out without ever appearing annoyed. Somehow we ended up sitting close by. There were few people I talked to and you were the one I wanted to talk to the most. You were so cute! You fidgeted with pens all the time and your smile was always small and slightly crooked. You hunched over your desk laughing when something was extremely funny. You didn’t do that too often, but you did it around me the most. ‘I’m special’, I thought. I was 100% delusional, I know but, could you blame me? I liked you so much and I didn't even know it! One day, I said something, something you didn’t like. I made your shoulders tense and your eyes hardened to a deep chestnut from its usual soft caramel. “You’re an asshole,” you said and turned your body away from me. I remember my jaw dropping in shock and my heartbeat building in intensity in time with my breaths. I was scared yet enlightened at the same time. ‘I’m special’, I knew. Because you cared about what I said more than other people. You showed a side to me that none of our classmates had seen. I was special and the need to keep that place in your life outweighed any overdue assignments I had. Priorities, am I right?

We didn’t talk for the rest of the day or a few days after that. I knew what that empty feeling in my chest was. You were missing. We still sat near each other, what were we supposed to do? Change our unassigned assigned seats? Head spinning and ears ringing, I gave you a note crumpled and damp from the unyielding grip I had on it. I remember it very clearly. It wrote: ‘I’m so sorry for what I said. I crossed a line and made an awful ‘joke’ about something I really had no business speaking about. I’m sorry that I upset you. I just want you to know that I truly am sorry.’ It’s not really a great apology, but I was 17–I hadn’t apologized for much at that time and I didn’t really know what “accountability” was. But by some miracle you read the note and started talking to me again and you never stopped talking to me. And since then I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Her eyes teared in the sunlight. Blood was all over her arms, her shoulders. Her body tensed up when she held his cold, lifeless hand. She slowly closed his bloodshot blue eyes, watching them sparkle one last time.

She stared at him, and started to caress with her right hand. For 15 minutes straight. She noticed his reddish-brown hair, along with his tender yet strong hands. She laid down with him, gazing at the bright orange sky, as police officers gathered at the scene. They ran to where the blood drained, and just took in what had just happened. A knife located in her left hand, the police dragged her away and handcuffed her tightly. "A lover's quarrel," the responding officers murmured.

She had just met him, and this was the man she'd just killed.

Blue eyes. Oceans so deep, you could feel the waves crashing on you. And that laugh, so long and so sweet you would stop and listen. The face, so innocent so sweet, you'd be blind to miss it. That love, so pure and so deep your heart would burst of you felt it. Those lips that kissed you goodbye. Those hands that never wanted to say bye. The kindness in the soul, those arms that never wanted to let go.... undescribable.

If I were to describe our love story and time shared, I would say it was like Friday. It was fun, exciting, passionate, and extremely full of emotions. One day we are on cloud nine, and some days we are fighting like animals. Being with you was intoxicating. Your presence was so hard to let go of, invigorating that I craved it when we were apart. You were someone I always looked forward to spending my time with. You were my safe space. We had fun, we had our silent and comfortable days while lying down in bed, and we had our misunderstandings that tested the limits of our emotional and mental capacity. But just like any Friday, when you’re enjoying life, getting drunk, dancing to the beat, laughing out loud without a care, a day full of exhilarating moments has come to an end. And when it did, it hurt. It hurt like hell knowing those crazy Fridays would never happen again. Our adventure has ended, and just like having withdrawals, it made me go wild, crying, gasping for air, and battling emotions I don’t want to feel. But I know, deep within, letting go of you would lead me to better days. I know our end would create a hole inside me while slowly building me up again. You are the kind of love I will always long for, crave, remember, and cherish. You are my Friday, my bliss, my adventure. It is tragic that our time has ceased when I thought our time would be never-ending. But I hope we both have better days. I hope you and I get to meet our Sunday love. The kind of love giving us warmth, stability, comfort, and safety.

I fell in love last Tuesday

But with my lips I couldn't say

So I told you with my fingers and hoped you heard my voice within

I traced it very lightly

On your neck then down your body

I heard you say it back with the bumps upon your skin

what is love in the end

after it splits

and turns a bit

sinister

what is love in the end

or even when it begins

how does it twist

and turn

what is love in the end

i sometimes forget

because it it gets blown aways in the wind

that is Love in the end.