Intimate of Souls

The strands of time unravelled, and we found ourselves lost, for so long it wavered in the restless wind in a silent darkness no one heard. 

We searched and searched but it could  not be seen, it's scent so faint, caressed the soul. We knew it was there, waved our arms and wailed a silent, bitter nothingness.

But somehow, we found each other again, our thoughts collide, just as a mountain top water drop forms the wildest rush of waves.

We swivel here and there, with nowhere to go, chained to ourselves just as we're free to our chains.

We risk our risks and prepare to fall. 

Are You Scared?

Does it scare you, this love that might have been and perhaps even was?

This past we shared before and cherish now, the pain of the things we made and lost?

The time that which has lapsed, it has paled the shade of black our white became. And when we meet again, I'm sure, our hearts will mend and fuse again. It will be whole again for us to break.

Does it scare you, the word of worlds, a love?

Emotions

And why do we have this burning desire, to lay our eyes, our hearts, the nakedness of our thoughts upon the bare wholeness in the depth of each others reach.

And why do the words we have spoken, caress our minds, with such soft embrace, they twirl and taint and hold and touch.

And yet with an instant, a thrust and throttle of a fierceness from some force of evil irrationalization we cannot find. A thunderous roar of strength and urge, and soar and tear, to grasp, and clutch and clasp to win. But no, don't stop! For all these fears from heart to mind, cannot bear to lose it all with end. 

So with it all, inside with warmth, a stillness that holds what we were as one, at least for a little moment in time. 

Reflections and Projections

Another reflection, or shall I say, another projection?

I don't want what I had before, I don't crave for those things that I do not have anymore. 

I want new things, I want better things. 

If those things are not available to me, then I want for nothing. 

Why should I pine away for those things in the past? For they, very obviously, were no good at all. And as we selectively remember only the good things about the people in the past, I never for a minute wish to ever have it again. 

For with all that happiness came an immense pain, that only I suffered when my heart was ripped away, it was not worth it, it is not worth it.

But ask me if I wish I had him back, ask me of I ever wish it could have been, and the answer, my friends, is no.