IN HER THOUGHTS

Daydreams giving exaggerated hopes in life. A tender kiss is just behind closed eyes. Happiness is hidden in the whiff of her scent. A deeper touch felt even with open eyes. Just like the waves of an ocean I drift in and away. My heart drives me in and doubts in my mind chase me back. A story that has a beauty whispered about again and again. Due to the fear of stating things already known. I keep my words to myself. But what if, maybe it doesn't matter. I mean everyone probably wouldn't mind hearing something good from time to time. So I dare to let her know she's beautiful. This morning. And then the next. And the one after that. She smiles. She blushes. I smile and finally breathe again. Do I dare to tell her more? The way she makes me feel. What she sees every day in the mirror Is a dream that sticks my heart inside my throat. I couldn't say the word beautiful enough. I couldn't paint a picture of my soul's vision. I'm si

Why am I letting myself sink as if I can't see everything around me? Why is the ground just swallowing me up? Did I choose this or I've fallen into another one of misery's traps ? Someone, please tell me why am I blind to myself? I'm staring at the mirror and a stranger is staring back.  I have a name but what's in a name? Is it that I've forgotten who I truly am? What's bringing about this amnesia? Are these too many questions for a man slowly sinking? Are they any answers for one who's lost in himself? I'm knocking on my thoughts and I don't hear anybody home. There's an emptiness that feels like a grave waiting for my soul. How do I teach myself the art of understanding pain? How is it that my wounds are now scars but they still hurt? How is it that I think the world is horrible but I hate myself ? How is it that I don't know why I'm even asking these questions?

I know it's mostly just flattery but they tell me I'm a lover at heart or maybe a believer and I like how people see me. It's not exactly the same way I see myself but I think it's pretty close and generally life offers nothing perfect. I'm not one for long silences or awkward pauses, that's just never been me. I always fill in the gaps with words and conversation even when it's unwanted I somehow speak. Life has been a long tirade of lessons, some of which I was never supposed to learn. Society was always the loudest teacher when it came to all those wrong subjects. It spoke loud as I walked down the streets and it told me I was walking wrong, it told me I wasn't dressed the right way and my hair was done wrong. It whispered as I sat across from my date and it told me that for the food on my plate and the movie we had just watched I had to give it up It taught me that there was a price for things I was supposed to give freely because I felt so