Bad Timing

*I really enjoy writing these ‘quick’ poems. It really realeases the emotions of the writer, and takes away the daunting task of editing. It shows the true emotions of the writer, aka, not having to think, just speaking through text. No matter how scattered it is. Thank you for your time, have a great day.*

 

There was a certain time and place, where I thought I had your heart.

I thought I had it wrapped in a beautiful red bow, forever tightened against my chest.

It was purity in the truest form.

A simple slice of heaven, all for me.

But the days went through time, dragging my soul along for a ride.

You see, I was imperfect at the time.

Mistakes from my past seemingly always creeping into the fold.

A breakdown here, and unforgivable words there.

Disastrous fortunes that benefited neither of us.

Yet you had your own demons.

Ones that snuck up on me, blinding my heart in a vail.

They attacked me, battering me into a pulp until I was nothing but a liquid.

Fluid in my love for you; steady in my desire.

Cheesy it may sound, but a perfect storm it was.

Two land masses colliding, shaking the very foundation in which they sat.

Forever shaping the landscape in which my own mind constructed.

I think back on the love we had.

The desire that rushed through us, engulfing our bodies in flames.

A pure love, forever set in time.

But once again, time passed.

And our love separated across the seas.

I often wonder of this.

Pondering the very foundation on which our souls were joined together.

Was it love?

Or was it desire?

The fool in me chooses desire.

Yet the romantic chooses love.

Both serve valid points, equally choosing a side.

 

 

Some say the heart wants what it wants.

Choosing its own path in which it knows is right.

And my heart knows the ending of what it desires.

It was always you.

Through years of abuse and self destruction.

We parted. Not together, but in our own garden.

Meeting in an imperfection place in time.

Both of us hating the bodies we lived in.

Yet loving another with more than we had.

It was love that brought us together.

And love that separated us.

As I said.

A perfect storm of love, and ego.

 

One day I hope we may come together.

In our older years.

Years in which we have come to peace with our demons.

A place where we can accept the others faults.

And love the imperfections.

One day I will love you again.

For now I attempt to move forward.

In search of the man that holds your heart.

The man that still holds yours.

 

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