The willow of paradox

Forever and for one alone,
oneself and with it only
lonliness.
To rephrase: its misery
that me me me is all our hearts
will ever see.
And again: so cold the mold that grows so old
convinced
when love is only sold.

Or rather I choose to no longer believe
that two loves together a thread do weave,
for a for-each-other hides their true for:
affirmation of oneself and nothing more.

Knowing this I should choose to abstain
or refrain from trying to attain some bliss:
the kiss of joy that waterfalls tears
for years, a memory that never fades,
but aides the recollection of what was just said,
it's dead: all love is just...the above.

I could never have expected:
desire fulfilled I will have rejected.

a perfect love fills up the sky
and bliss rains down with every kiss
While tears of miss fill up the air
and there will be for years and years
such care I could never expect
Desire fulfilled I would reject.

Convinced and "love" becomes just
a must,
or else it's only lust.

Giving up hope, for lack of water

I do not need any grass:
It will never be green, for I knew green once.
In need of so much water to stay green,
I myself could not keep it from dying.

I did all the singing, silently.
You sang, yes, but your heart merely whispered.
It was off singing to the dead grass.
And I spilled my water all over my shirt.

Over?

If one second you can say you love me
and the next, when I leave the room,
that you never did, then you never did.

Beyond existence itself

I have been
forced into the depths of despair
and drawn to the heights of joy
You have taken me
through the pangs of jealousy
and into reciprocated adoration
I feel again
and I never want to leave
you make me me
and I am never me without you
will never be me, without you.
I will always be
And you will always be
with me
with you
and I pray...
beyond existence itself.

What I want

After months of desiring affection it is finally reciprocated
And for today, for once, for all, I have realized that perhaps
one can love the one who loves the loving one: that love can
be reciprocal.
And despite the fact that he is still on your mind
And the fact that this pushes me away
I find myself drawn only closer, for now All of your love
may be too much for me to handle: but it is still what I want.
For only then can I begin to see, if I become the one as you are to me,
if we are meant to be together forever. But we can never know forever
for Rilke so rightly says, as you said to me, live the questions now
and you will live your way into the answers. If it is forever, and this is
what I want now, at least, I will have found what I think I have found,
that I can never give up on, a love, the love that lasts forever, my dream.
I wish I could make love into an everlasting adoration for one person only,
but I'm forced into believing we have many loves in our life. I'd like to give
more to love than this, for love is the only reason we live, it is a return to
where we began, where we came from, and to where we will go. Something that,
it is rightly said, outlives death. But how can it outlive death if we have many loves? Only the one lives with us after death, and how can we determine who the one is if we have many loves. One life, one love, one death, and love continues: it denies the fact that its holder has died and does not die with it: it lives on
and becomes stronger as it solidifies in the spirit of the world.
Maybe my dream is a reality, and my dream then, would never have been a dream at all.
It would have been a hope that was always already pointless, based out of the fear of its opposite, love's death, which was never really a worry at all. Love lives on or love dies? It depends on whether or not you make/meet your one and only. And when can we determine this: only at death, right? Just live the questions, right? In that moment, the glance of the eye, the answer will shine forth. Or not? Hope and Fear. Anxiety. Or eagerness?