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Land of my Many Disappointments

A map to the land of my many disappointments
awaits you at the end of this particular piece,
overshadowed by my inability to speak
the words I oh so long to say. I was sleepwalking
through my life, stumbling through the dimensions of
a dream, when I discovered you as though such an
occurrence was fated to be. I took your hand in
mine, and upon awakening from my slumber, there
you were standing before me, alive and real; at
least that’s the way I remember it. There is no
point to this story however, for the fractured truth
is that neither one of us resides on common ground,
despite us residing beneath the exact same sun.
The star, whose light wanders effortlessly across our
solar system, rises and sets to your unflinching
beauty, and I, the writer of this unprized poem,
could learn a hundred different words in a vast quantity
of languages, but never would I discover a word
capable of reflecting your attractive qualities.
Like the sun, you shine upon the surfaces of my skin,
and I would love to say that never have you shone brighter
than when you were shining upon me, but such an idea
would be a lie. I have seen you dozens of times or more in
locations where I would have had the opportunity to
say ‘hello,’ but never did I take this wasted option
and instead, you are left without my voice in your ear. I
would appreciate, unfathomably appreciate,
a moment when I could say without hesitation how
much I love you, and when this moment comes, say these words with
meaning I truly will. However, although these words of
intent be writ, I dare not describe the beauty of this
sweet damsel, for never could you, dear reader, succinctly
believe that someone so gorgeous could be at all
real, and if I had not seen you, my lady, with
my own two eyes, I too would find it impossible
to fathom that a woman, who is obviously
an angel fallen from Heaven, could possibly
walk amongst us mortals. But even though you be
beautiful, the love within your heart, reserved for a man
deserving, is never bestowed willingly upon my
soul, and thus, when you begin a sentence, conveyed to
me by your words that float towards my ears on the wings
of hapless angels, if such a creation begins with
an ‘I’, the next two words will never be ‘love you.’ The shame
of this is beyond reprieve, but it is understandable
all the same, for I am a one dollar coin when you need
a hundred dollar note; I am a plastic stool
when you need a leather recliner; I am a
cold take-away when you require a delicious
feast; I am an average metaphor when what you need
is an athlete of the written word. But love, if love
is all you need, just look into my eyes and you will
see that mine is endless in design; if only
you would ever look in my direction.

Like lightning on the Sun

Your hair, like a flower, is so
soft and smooth that I long to
run my hands through your
luscious strands and digest
the sweet scent of your petals.
Your smile, like lightning on the
sun, is what causes me to pursue
you with an intensity that can
barely be described. Your lips,
as soft and pink as fairy floss are
what cause me to salivate so,
whilst wishing to taste your
succulent moist kiss. Your
eyes, like sapphires glistening
on a mid-summer’s night, so
bright and beautiful that I wish
to preserve such a treasure
forever. Your nose, so dainty,
so squishy, so well done, fits your
face like the last perfect piece of
a jigsaw that I have been hoping
to solve. Your cheeks, a crimson
in colour, like a blood red dawn
trickling across the horizon look
too gorgeous to be real, as though
you are wearing mascara when in
fact there is none. Your skin is as
rich and creamy as a delectably
dangerous dessert that ought not
to be touched for the intoxicating
flavour of its seductive properties.
Your face, like a doll’s is flawless
and without imperfection to such
an incredible extent that I cannot
help but stare indefinitely at your
ravishing features. But beauty isn’t
everything and only goes skin deep;
it’s what goes on beneath the
physical body that makes you who
you are. Your opinionated
personality, like a dream sequence,
retains the attention of all who come
into contact with you. Your intellect,
like a sword is as sharp as any bladed
instrument and cuts deeper than one
could ever imagine. Your sense of
humor, much like that of a talented
comedian is as side-splitting and
laughable as a joke that I cannot
escape from. Your everything is
my want in life; my destined dream;
my muse. I long for you like nothing
else on this Earth and I swear to
all who shall listen that I will have
you eventually and if not, then I
will have you never more.