#writerph

Even the flowers I bought grew tired of waiting and my love's still not awaken my mind sometimes wonders in circles would you be in somewhere crowded or in the coffee shop I go on Sundays? I hope I'm not the hunter because I stopped dancing with cons who call themselves lovers in lieu, I embark on this path where the wildflowers are growing.

but at night, it's like I'm home. I get to look at myself and see who I am. I get to hold my own hand and feel the way I feel. at night, I am myself and I'm angry there's not much hours to be spent.

You stay by the fire intertwined with her hand not with mine that love's twisted disguise not enough to fill the abyss of your mind infidelity hiding within those eyes my reflection haunting your nights blind hoping, it's me with you tonight.

can't we go back to those September nights?

My hands trembled after what you said a poem sprouts from my heart but thorns never fail to be defensive I cracked a joke like I didn't hear it but my mind grew a garden as your voice echoes in and out and my heart laments for the same words I should have said

In your world I am the sunset sky— when you looked me in the eyes you felt the warmth of my golden hues the sun awakened the fiery red in you when I painted your blue skies pink and as you ventured through the night I was that calming blue unfolding the purple side of you I was that fleeting moment tattooed in your head for I am the sunset sky.

I watch the flame until it's blue my heart almost succumb to your pull on the brink to end my misery with your company but I chose to turn you into poetry

so I savored it