My Poetic Justice

I catch myself yearning for more.

The shadows in my car are all silent,

as I wait patiently for you to write my next chapter.

I want everything to be perfect.

I want it to be memorable, lively, intense, and enticing.

I can't help not to grab your pen, and help you trace out my life;

Writing my love stories, spontaneous adventures and random spots of happiness;

Controlling my outcome to the rhythm of your heart beat.

but you have to know...

That I linger after your every syllable.

I lay against your freckled lips at night

That I picture your kiss on my fore head and

the glow of your mahogany brown eyes against the afternoon sun rays...

Or maybe you are teaching me a lesson,

and watching me from a distance.

Answering my questions on love without giving me the answer that I hunger for

but the answer that my life requires.

Redefining poetic justice to a man that has lost himself in the clouds of wants and desires.

Having to surrender what I've been condition to,

To accept what has been giving to me and do my best with the cards that I've been dealt.

But I still sit alone in this car,

while I'm listening to soft and smooth tones of female vocalist.

I lust for you to press me on that paper and tell a story

Create a destiny and battle between two powerful souls

Beauty and passion, sex versus love, romantic divided by intensity

Confusion minus stress, sensitivity times vulnerability, opinions and facts

My poetic is your poetic, equals our justice...

Why can't I let fate just happen?

I don't know why I want to control my life through you.

I just want everything to be perfect.

And I'm scared that it won't be...

Maybe thats the reason while I'm sitting alone in this car watching you,

watch me and live your life.

I think 

I might be afraid

of our poetic justice ... can you help me?

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed