I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About the love I have for you,
I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About how you make the sky blue.
But that simply is not true.
Saying your smile makes my stomach churn,
Or that my heart is tightened by a string,
For all I care, every one of these words can burn.
Because my love, they would not describe a thing.

You see Mon Amour, I am not very good with words,
Yet I feel that would not help anyways,
When I see you my voice flies away like the birds,
As I’m stuck with my mind in a daze.
My heart begins to pump, as adrenaline hits,
Confounded by your beauty in more ways than one,
Suffocating my brain and removing me of my wits,
Holding my voice back, as the words escape at a run.

It is not that you are not beautiful, smart, and everything in between,
It is that whatever can describe you, is nothing I have ever seen.

You're a ******,
you're a ****,
essentially everything I don't like.
Living your life,
with separate values, dreams, goals,
yet who is going to save your soul?
You love other men,
while I'm for women,
you drink alcohol,
which is a sin too,
but what hurts me the most...
Is I am not free like you.

Who are you to tell me,
that inhaling a plant's smoke is bad..?
Should I no longer stand by the fire?
for fear of filling my lungs?
Why do you care,
if my child does not know your god?
My god is bigger, and bolder, and better,
so why don't your children listen?
What is it to you,
if I want to die?
Leave this world which I no longer love,
yet, you cut my wings so that I cannot fly.

I'm getting tired,
for you are not that light,
my back is breaking.
I carry you like a mother monkey does,
despite your sagging layer of love,
except I no longer feel the strength of my heart,
and so my back is breaking.

The thought... idea... notion.
That you will leave me someday,
leaves me hollow as a log,
with maggots eating my heart, like your body.
Knowing what we have,
will once be what we had,
lost in the fog of our memories,
with no road back.
That day will come...
Possibly quicker than I think.
Yet until that day comes,
I dare not blink.

My vision is clouded,
but that doesn't stop me from seeing,
yet my decisions are continuously clouded.
Our connections holds me tight,
like the noose around my neck,
yet I choose to hang here,
because what is clear merely brings me fear.

The sunlights shadow gleams upon your face,
as if God had crafted it himself,
yet he took longer than just six days,
because you were not some model on the shelf...
Your skin stole what smoothness silk once had,
and your hair rolls like thunder off your shoulders
your voice would make birds jealous and mad,
while I merely listen and crave.
I hunger for your words to fill me,
fill my love's insatiable thirst,
to hold me is to set me free,
but I must find you first.