I’m soft.

I try not to let the world made me hard, or your lies break my smile.

I’m soft as the wind whispering into your ear an “I love You”.

Soft as the birds, high in flight.

Free of spirit, heart, and mind.

I’m soft because this world allows me to love you.


I’m soft.


I’m a soft drop of water running down your back;

Soft candle light adoring your thighs.

I am your soft heart breaking into pieces.

I am your warm smile greeting all those she misses.



She has so many flaws you don’t know where to start. 
Her hair doesn’t fall in the right way anymore, 
and the sunlight does not make her eyes shine anymore. 
Her smiles has stopped making your days brighter.

The cracks in her soul are visible now on her skin, and she always seems she’s about to cry, or maybe her eyes just tend to frown… Her and her hooded eyes.

And her voice, once so angelical, is now cracked and not-so-good, the curves her dress does not accentuate are always present, morning, night, and noon.

She does not make you smile anymore, but she does not make you cry. (Emotionally) She doesn’t make you… anything.

But somehow, still… you love her, because deep down in your soul, you believe your wife is someone you should love.

He Forgets Me

And he forgets me.

Just as we tend to forget our happiest days when the skies are grey, he forgets me. Just as a child forgets about his old games. Just like once forgets their first smile. He forgets without wanting to, compelled into the beauty of the world that is right in front of his eyes, held tight in his hands, kneeling in from of him. He forgets me with the waves of naked bodies to come. I am left feeling oh, so cold.

He simply forgets about me.

The words that were once said, the feelings we once felt, the love we almost knew. It is all now a blur in the past. I am nothing but a drop of water in his ocean of memories. I am a face with no name, or a name with no face. But I have been forgotten. I have been replaced. I have been erased.

Now my favorite song is nothing but a memory of Him.
And my favorite poetry is forbidden for me. Everything reminds me of him. Even the air seems to whisper his name in my ear as I try to move on.

He forgets me, and I still have to move on.


Photo taken from: Cypherx

My Kind Of Love

The kind of love I want may be uncommon,

or may be common among the people that are truly in love.

I wouldn’t know…

I want a kind of love that protects me even from my very self.

Someone that knows just when I am about to reach my limits,

even when I am unaware.

The kind of love I want is the kind of love you write movies about,

not because it may be epic,

not because it was fun and wild,

or had to endure a lot of trouble,

but simply because it was real.

I want a kind of love that doesn’t ask about the past,

because it would only care about the present me,

not all the mistakes and things that led to me.

I want a love that accepts the real me.

Not the me with makeup and stilettos on,

or the me that everyone thinks I am,

The me that only I know I am,

and my better half.

I want someone who laughs at my corniest jokes,

and tells me I love you right afterwards,

because when corny I’m at my best.

I want someone who will look into my eyes

and loose themselves in them,

longing to own my heart, mind, and soul.

I want a love that will embrace me,

that will protect me, that will cherish me

and adore me like no one else ever has.

Someone that gives me some realistic version of a fairytale,

because we’d both be bored trying

to fit into the mold of “perfection”.

I want a love with a little danger.

A love that’s fun and always youthful,

would be my kind of love,

no matter how many decades it already has.

A love that will inspire people to ask us

the secret to the happiness of a romantic life.

I want a love I am proud to tell my grandchildren about,

right next to their grandpa.

I want a love that takes my breath away,

with a gaze, with a touch, with an ever so slight kiss.

A love that will caress my back every night to help me fall asleep.

I want a love that gives it all,

because it will be receiving the very best of me.