Who Are You?

I can barely walk through this darkness.
Yet I follow the echoes of your voice.
The sound of which feels so near.
Yet I cannot reach you.
But it’s not even that.
I am afraid to hold you.
But I long so much to feel your touch.
Who are you?
And why does my heart pound when you’re near,
But even faster when I can’t find you?
I will follow the thought of your smile
Wherever it may lead me.
Be it a field of grass, or a bottomless pit.
But it scares me to take each step.
Each heart beat.
Each echo.
So I shall close my eyes and see who you are.
Or perhaps just someone who I thought existed.

Must Be Kidding

When I tell you what’s on my mind,
Do I bear a jester’s cap?
Can I show you what you mean to me,
Without thoughts of dreaming away a fantasy?
Can you stop laughing as if it’s a joke?
Can you stop thinking it’s a game?
I am neither trying to be tricky nor lame.
When I show you a rose, can you not look at the thorns?
I’m trying to get through, though only through words.
It’s all I can offer in exchange for your own.
Don’t think that this is funny, because all through the while
I’m just trying to imagine your expressions and smile.
A smile I can’t glimpse, but it’s got me dreaming.
Asleep or awake, I can’t stop thinking.
It pains me in a way I can’t describe.
And I’m in no position to do anything about it.
Day in and day out, this is me.
So I ask you now, can’t you see?
That in spite of the jester’s cap and the jokes that aren’t meant
In spite of the games or tricks that play themselves out
And in spite of all the inches, and yards, and miles
To you, I want to be close.
To remove the thorns from the beautiful rose.
And hope, and trust, and wish, with rambling prose
That maybe, just maybe, in my life, it’s you, I suppose.

The SANDBOX STORY

The whole Sandbox Story has been moved to a different blog page.

thesandboxstory.blogspot.com

A Winter's Tale

A snowflake gently glides onto Earth's softly cheeks
Not another sight can capture my stare
And this sight, of which the consequence is grand
Demanding the coldest and thinnest of air
Yet, I stand among the absence of heat
The absence of something that only my eyes can bear
For my skin overflowing with goosebumps is not enough
Not even my breath that gasps for air
Because how can you turn your sight away from a miracle
A sight of exquisiteness so rare
And as the snowflake lands, my eyes don't see where
For all this time the snowflake is falling,
Into your beautiful eyes I stare.