sitting at home,
everything is fine,
as the days pass by
one by one,
some long, some slow;
I talk to myself quiet and low,
elegies of my heart and soul…
a shiver, a sigh, soft words whispered in the dark,
my senses are mixed already, unable to differentiate
between a sound or a smell or a touch or a taste;
I keep dreaming of a time,
my fingers intertwined
with you, an everlasting
joy of time, heart skipping
a beat here and there;
as I sit here
thinking sweet thoughts of you
lustful images make my heart
the heat continues to rise
as I close my eyes and see
you standing before me;
I open up my eyes to find
that you are nowhere around
I feel a wave of sadness
crash upon the shores of my heart;
As i lie here obsessed with the thought of you,
hoping it will all be over soon and,
waiting patiently for the day
when I can hold you in my arms
and never have to let you go again,
i realize love is a strange thing indeed;
some lines are taken from another poem that i came across elsewhere.
Love makes life so confusing, but without love would you really want to live? – Author Unknown
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]Love is a Strange Thing,
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