I cannot have you in the flesh

But I can have you in my head.

Imagining bliss, what a merciful gift. 

Is it a sin?

Taking you into my dream.

Creating every scene so perfectly.

Where everything is what I’d hoped it would be.

It easies the pain of not knowing your touch when I awake.

Dare I look you in the eye.

Knowing what I’ve dreamt inside my mind.

Until tonight.

When I decide,

what I’ll be having under the moonlit sky. 


Do you remember me often?

I wonder, if you recall all the broken promises you’d made me.

How I’ve cried over such triviality. 

I still find it hard to fathom your cruelty.

I can still see all your words come alive in my mind,

as if we were still a possibility. 

You and me.

What a comedy our romance turned out to be.

I wonder if you care about how much you’ve hurt me.

My wild guess is that it won’t solve anything,

all my wondering.

No more wondering,

there’s no you and me.


I hardly think of you anymore.

Can’t believe I shed so many tears for you not to long ago. 

I spent so much time walking along.

Finding shattered pieces of my heart all over the floor. 

Sounds like a sad story.

I write a love story.

I cared for you once upon a time.

Now it seems strange to have ever loved you at all.

Many love story’s go wrong.

No regrets for having loved you before.

It’s just the end for a new beginning of another



That voice, a voice for all to read.

Doesn’t seem so lonely knowing we can create feeling in almost every body.


a director creating reaction to a receptive audience. 

Some what of a producer, propelling the imagination far beyond any possibility.

Creativity is in everyone’s reach.

An idea,

turned into a dream,

made into a show for all to see.


I hate the way I have to fix all the different broken parts of me.

I hate believing I’d give up on all the possibilities.

I hate me for throwing pity parties instead of finding the strength I need.

I hate me for letting pieces of me break as if everything would always work perfectly.

I hate thinking of how I use to be so carefree.

I love the way I know myself enough to trust intuition faithfully.

I love me for knowing I’ll come back stronger in the end,

simply because

I love me.


Who said big boys don’t cry?

Always be ready to stand up and fight.

Only the strong survive.

Look at the “Mama’s Boy”.

Little boy, it’s okay to cry.

You can decide to walk away from a fight.

Empty victories do not promise becoming the man inside.

Let them talk.

Hold your head up high.

Let the sun beam down on you and shine.

Your mother will look at you with such pride.

Wise men know how to use their mind. 


You use to write me love letters.

You’d put so many beautiful words together.

I’d reread them and imagine us being together.

You won my mind and took my heart.

The chase was over, your prize discarded.

Never was it meant to be kept under lock and key.

A heart set free,

flies with butterflies for everyone to see.

I don’t cross your mind but you still cross mine.

I no longer receive love letters from you.

So out with the old.

New love letters are overdue.


So much dismay.

The turmoil doesn’t understands rest.

Walking in peace,

yet craving inward evolution.

It’s not B/S.

Hidden truths, religious riddles.

Empathy is such a far stretch. 

Receptive mode isn’t easy to achieve. 

Many times it’s dismissed for thinking crazy and then suppressed. 

Incapacitating this energy is ludicrous. 

If you can recognize what’s happening. 

Maybe one day the answer will be whispers without anymore delay.

The discovery, heaven sent.

Another riddle to add to the test.


Love the mind, open the heart.

The coherence is undeniably.

Love unimaginable.

Feelings indescribable.

Hosting freedom of expression.

The blissfulness supersedes all negativity.

Hate will be incomprehensible.

Jealousy laughable.

Vindication unsustainable. 

Collecting the feeling to put into words impossible.

Born for love not condition.