Perfectly Imperfect

Picture from POSTSECRET

In that exact moment that darkness surrounded us,
You held my hand and promised to be my light.
I like it when my eyes can’t see and the only music
That I hear is the maddening sound of the rain.
I want to stay in the dark longer, to observe
The flickering light that shyly illuminates
Our once proud love.
I want my hand back.
your light is no longer enough.

Play Paint

You keep looking at the cracks in the ceiling,
Constantly wondering when water will seep through.
I continue watching you breathing, blinking, staring,
While I let my mind and my heart paint you.

WALLED PROMISES

picture from POSTSECRET

You intended these walls to be bulwarks.
I see them as promises.

You can isolate yourself as much as you want.
I will always be on the other side, waiting.
When it’s over, I’ll fly over each and every one of them,
and save you from your walled misery.

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CHAOTIC HAPPINESS

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When the laughter stops, and my smile fades,
All that will be left is your sadness.
I will protect you, drag you to the rawness of my chaotic happiness…
… away from your miserably organized mediocrity.

WASTED CHANCES

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You sleep at night and look forward to tomorrow.
Carefully, you tiptoe your way to the future.
If only you stayed awake and looked around instead of forward.
If only you ran and played with the present.
Now all you have are plans… and a lot of wasted chances.

LOGICAL MAGIC

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Amidst the bursts of green,
I long for the biting brown.
Stemmed bruises on white,
thin black strips swaying.

Everything was spinning around me.
Except when you held my hand,
Until logic merged with magic.

I am logic and you are magic.
Work on me. Let me be your masterpiece.

CONSTANCY

Picture from POSTSECRET

Like a promise carefully engraved in stone,
Like air that stealthily surrounds us,
Like water that aggressively flows to infinity,
Like the slow blinking of my eyes,

You still stubbornly inhabit my heart.
You are my heart.
To me, you are indispensable.
You are my constant.

MESS

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We worked so hard to not mess everything up.
Luckily, we didn’t. We didn’t have to.
It was messed up to begin with.
You’re the “order to my mess.” and I, to yours.
But when it’s time to clean up,
What will be left of our emotional landfill?

Differently

Picture from POSTSECRET

I wish things had ended differently.
But it could mean starting things differently.
And “differently” might mean not knowing you.

So I take it back,
I don’t wish things had ended differently.
I just wish things didn’t have to end.

The RIDDLE

Picture from POSTSECRET

“Am I doing the right thing?” you hesitantly asked.
With pretentious nonchalance, I answered, “Figure it out.”
Looking back, I should’ve said, “Figure ME out.”

LOST and FOUND

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I saw this coming. From the moment I cried my first tear, had my first fall and got my heart broken over and over again. It was a maze, an ugly, cruel and twisted maze.

I didn’t find my way out but I did find my way… TO YOU.

MY IDIOT

picture from POSTSECRET

Because our conversations are not mere conversations, they are a series of secret correspondence between a heart in denial and a heart with blind optimism. Yes, we have moved on, but if we just keep walking, we’ll either meet each other’s gaze at the end of this circular road or get lost - forever.

Stop being AN idiot. Start being MINE.