My lady lay asleep

It's funny, I never figured time for a gentlemen! The humble wait, the patient wants-
who knew, I guess there is a surprise in every subject as there are many in love.
The aftermath is but a scar that always remain as proof that we have once walked the
chances of eternal possibility- but somehow and somewhere, fell short. To love with a love
deeper than usual, is an unnatural feeling, a rare bird that flies into the heart,make haven,
and when it feels it has satisfied its need of adventure, it leaves to fly elsewhere. Love is
a bird that you cannot change, only dream and hope on its reality to embrace and displace once
more. We are the ultimate addicts of love, the powerless slaves of its effect, the willings when
all willings before have been swept away in front of the bare eye of the next victim. To explain
how love infects is unneccesary, for we've all had the fortune and misfortune to be laughed at by
the warmth that plays and plagues about the heart, our only action is to accept the certainty of pain,
in exchange for a glimpse of delusion.


I am dellusional.


I sit and watch the rain outside hug my bedroom window. The waves that slide down that creates figments
upon my walls and ceilings, along the hinges of my door that is half opened, along the flesh of my
girlfriend, who as I watch her breath and adore her anjelect face- I sit and ponder on what I would do with
myself if that day was to come when she walks away. There are perils in underestimating lonliness, that lesson
I learned at my time as a helpless neonate, into what became a lost teen, into a man with no compass to point
the way home. But somtimes, even when we pick them up and we hold them because if loneliness has taught us
anything, its to appreciate, no matter the little you have and the more you may yearn for.



A smile covers my face as the thunder rolls furiously, and as my lady lay asleep, not a single flinch
or sense of proof of worry reach her bones. I wonder. On nights when I'm asleep, does she stay up and watch me as
I live in dreams of dark canaries? Does she know the pain that haunts my bones day in and day out that is
only repelled by happiness? She senses what I feel, I know she does, while she sleeps, while I sleep,
while we laugh, hold hands, make love- she is one part of a man that had once fell apart.

She is a queen over a kingdom of love and hate; the brisk breeze of hate that creates love. She is why I
wake at midnight everyday and look to find her ghost lying there. She is the unnatural part of my life and
as long as her memory lives in my mind, she will be the slave to my dreams, filled of black canaries, over her
kingdom of love, that creates hate.