Thoughts While Waiting For The Van

I’ve stood for hours,
and made it to good use,
writing snippets of
you, with all the
reds and the blues,
and indulge on the
idea of putting you on
paper like a new quiet
masterpiece,
to a poet with swollen
feet and blisters on
her heels

I’m dazzled by the way
you crept into my mind
because of the simplest
of forms of waiting,
with mannerisms as familiar
and old to me; walking
back and forth over ideas
and the red clay floor,
biting my nails till I can see
the secrets underneath them,
and those cups of coffee that I’m
guessing
would be the answer to
every question they have
to me about you

In those seconds that I’m
trying to fit a perfect,
syllable that would capture
your imperfect everything,
contorting the words,
encouraging the thoughts
to weave through you,
the more I realize that waiting
and creating you in my
mind for myself won’t work..

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If You Ever Come Back

I don’t know if this would help,

but have you ever thought,

even once in your time when

we’re apart, to come back

to me?

Because I have asked that to my

mind and my heart starts to skip

and gulped a few heavy breaths

before saying what I wanted to say…

If you ever come back, I will be waiting

on the doorstep we used to sat on

with our never-ending stories of life

and of love, and of you and me,

and the music I serenaded you with

will be with me, singing lullabies

as you walk towards me that night…

If you ever come back, I will not

bring up the fights that bittered us

the silences that cuts us in half

and played with our conscience

and the fears of forever….

Instead, I’ll lay my heart on

the line again, never learning

the lesson to stop and halt on

another chance of being hurt,

because being hurt is much better

than to be alone without you..

If you ever come back, I’ll be

meeting you half a mile apart,

before I start to run for your

embrace, and engulfed the

meadows barefoot as I cut

the distance and reach for your eyes

that made me whole…

Don’t be scared my love,

if you dared yourself to come back,

for I will be here sitting on the doorstep,

because¬† I never left…..

I never left…..