good morning…

it was a Sunday,
too,
when I met you.

that was four months ago.
four months
and four days.

that bubble tea place
on 4th
has since closed down,

I walked by
with the expectation
of feeling, again-

but it just reminded me
of who you and I were
four months ago.

the year behind us now 

has left a blistering hole in my heart

where my passion used to be-

each recollection of

events slowly numbs my senses 

much like the start of this late winter-

but then comes you

draped in your black silk that 

sways almost as elegantly as your 

body-

you drag me from that driftless pub 

towards a museum

where even the ruby paint and gold leaf trimmed elites

seem dull compared 

to your celestial hair

red as Mars…

I lost an old lover because of you.

I shouldn’t blame you 

but I am

because I am selfish…

or at least that’s what he told me-

he said

you’re losing me, Arin…

but I was already gone

years

before

I

met

you.

my sister gave me a turntable.

I remember
you laughing with me
months ago
when I told you
that I collected vinyl
but had nothing to play them with.

I thought about you as soon as I saw the gold-covered box
under the tree.

she gave me a bunch of records too..

and I remember
you said my taste was classic-alternative
but
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to listen
to Siouxsie Sioux
without you…

in my dreams
he’s writing me a song…
he said he knew exactly
what he was going to get me
in Portland,
but I know he didn’t have a clue…
the only thing
that would help me
forgive him
is a song…

I had my last class today
which means that I’ve wasted 17 weeks

thinking about you
sprawled out on your bed

wanting you
to sing to me

kissing you
on your couch made for two people

waiting for you
to call me back when I don’t hear from you for days

and

letting your voice persuade me
when you inevitably don’t…

I gave you your Christmas present early,

I don’t know why

but my friend convinced me to.

she said it would give you time 

to think of something really great to give me 

because you don’t even give me your time.

as if a gift will make up for all those nights I spent up crying,

I don’t think a Smiths record will make you see that…

you were at Laguardia airport Friday morning…

I wish I found that out from you and not from Instagram. 

your roommate commented something like,

“Merry Christmas, I love you, and I’ll miss you”

and you didn’t reply.

I’m always curious

who you’re talking to

instead of me

but it seems 

that you don’t give yourself

to anyone…

Helen told me New York was lonely

but I’ve been here for years

and yet,

I wasn’t as lonely

when I was alone

as I have been with you…

My sister thinks you’re a player.

I think she’s tired of me living in an eternal pity party

It doesn’t help 

that I only tell her the bad things,

It doesn’t help

that I waste my nights thinking of you,

and it doesn’t help

that the only thing I find relatable

to our relationship

are Morrissey lyrics. 

your room is blue

you tell me all the time that you’re going to paint it 

but you won’t.

It’s kind of like 

when you promise me 

that you’ll call…

enamouredpoet:

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.

* golden thread *

longing,

a tortuous ache -

penetrating pain which reminds me that you are in my bones.

from the first hello, a golden thread appeared. a fire ignited deeply into my blood stream. electric bites under my skin.

euphoric drums banging in my chest, echoing your pulses

feet leaving surfaced land, as we dive freely into the abyss.

your hand in mine is when I realized,

that my soul knew your soul lifetimes ago.

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* soul - tangled *

the creep of longing felt so deeply in my bones

exhaling

clinging to you

releasing all scars

allowing beauty to swallow pain

right here, you’re so close

breathing in my heartbeat

wrapping your soul around me

going deeper

tangled

whispered touches kiss flesh

calm and fire collide

a balance of desire and serenity

engulfing flames as healing waters crash over again and again

in those secret hours,

between the sun and the moon

refuge is found

because of your existence,

do I know love

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* tattooed ache *

I feel your heart

inside my own

pulsing

consistently breathing me back

to life

peace fills me

as I melt into your calm

bare

naked, exposed

I am before you

my layers and skin unravel

in ribbons at your feet

unknown worlds cradled in hands

your song tattooed upon my soul

tasting tears, swallowing laughter

loving in ache

you,

you, my love

you are everything

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* savage *

moonlit tangled sheets

stardust sprinkled

across pillowed dreams

eyes locking my wants to your fervent desire

pulling you into this insatiable reverie

swallowing euphoria

just by inhaling the scent of drunken lustful lips

clenched thighs-throbbing need

beckons bite marks

to commit

the most outrageous sin on your flesh

run your tongue up my soul

bend until we break

licking portions back together

boundaries pushed

and raw rapture exposed

head spinning dizzy

savagely

consuming you whole

until you

only remember my name

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* falling *

your words

dance under my skin

like a prayer and a curse

parting holy waters and feeding fire

my addiction and my cure

the ache in bones

emerge

encased in safety

like a gentle collision

the careful surrounding parchment walls

fall,

disintegrating upon the forest floors

making beauty out of the shadows

the waking universe falls away

as we delve and fly deep into nothing and everything at once

brimming in destiny

love pulsing beyond our worlds

riding upon every unknown wave

finding adventure in uncertainties

only knowing

I would rather fall with you in the dark

than see the honey coated stars

with anyone else

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* wrapped *

I’m wrapped in your fiery ache

loving you in light and darkness,

as the sun loves the stars and crystal moon

enveloping whispers

between the shadows and the realm of the illuminating soul

sheathed flesh

revealed

quaking upon insatiable phantoms

howling with endless craving

pulsing through my chest

each throb vanquished

in plea of you

deep entangling deep

flowing serene waters

I’ll drink from your cup

and swallow the entire ocean

if I shall drown, let it be from the honey

which drips from your tongue

I will come up for breath in the taste

of your mouth

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

* a poet *

loving a poet can bring forth

moments of ultimate euphoria,

as well as pain that you feel 

into the depths of your core

poet is the religion and the muse the deity 

for the muse,

you ache, you  please, you desire

while on bended knee

you break

passion consumes

thoughts overflow into words

beauty and pain are seen deeply through the 

mind’s eye,and even more potent

in the depths of the soul

when a poet loves,

every pulse of the heart will cascade

that love will be made immortal 

by the power of words

flesh touched by ink stained hands

making love by the song in which your love created

the melody of words imprinted upon the heart

the lyrics tattooed upon

every inch, every crevasse of the skin

your love becomes a poem

etched under the layers

the memory lingering

long after both hearts depart

your poem is forever aching

under that fine lining burning through

your veins

a poet has a restless heart

say nothing for hours

and never at complete peace

a continuous search within

never completely satisfied

words overflow onto paper

yet there is never a full understanding settled

the mind races, the heart aches

the soul longs

many emotions are never spoken

yet every truth of thought

flows with fluidity through the ink

loving a poet 

is to live constantly on the edge of darkness

but forever, in the light

of beauty

© ScriptedSilence.  All rights reserved