It's Not The Falling In Love That Hurts. It's The Landing

Save your breath, honey, because my mind has memorised every excuse
your lips offer instead of kisses between the gasps and no's pledged.
This conversation is so worn-down now that it rips in mid-sentence and
we're just left with the shards of our resistence, the insistence that
still glows within these sleep-robbed eyes, still seeing visions of you.
I know the goodbyes are fresh in our minds but I'm not caring long
enough for these second thoughts to make ruins out of this moment.

The distance between us is closing and my mind is pulsing, pressure
against my temples and this is a new-found bloodrush I'm experiencing
inspired by slivers of your touch, dyeing my skin red with longing.
Regrets are just about as guaranteed as tomorrow, vague expectations
when we always knew that I couldn't survive any further than a breath
without the weight of your novocaine lips against my craving ones.
And just keep them closed if you're only going to mould apologies.
I didn't wedge miles between me and my rationality for guarantees.
It's just the pillows, the mattress and plenty of space between us.

And you can take your time walking me back to reality with your
hands forced so deep into your pockets, I'm reaching up so that
you can help me up from rock bottom, pull me through once again.
Stumbling on sidewalks, you look so radiant under streetlights
as you try to form the "Goodbye" that is written on your tongue.
Just shelve the effort. It fell past my lips with our final kiss.
This is one more for the broken record that we'll scribe and forget
and one last farewell to share beneath the moon and the scars.

Amazing. What more can I say, it's absolutely amazing.

Thank you, honey.

"I wanted him so much, I needed to be with him forever. But every time, all I got was another excuse, another reason and explanation as to why not. He left me but I went running after him; it was degrading and I can accept that. But all the degradation and humiliation in the world couldn't challenge my feelings for him. There are questions in my mind, asking me if this will just all fall apart again, but I want nothing more than to push them away.

Finally, I can feel his kisses, his touches and carresses against my body again and the sharpness completes me. I need this and I won't ever change my mind. Perhapds in the morning, he and I will both wonder why we did it, but this is a time to live for the moment. I've always needed him and he knew that, even when he tried to run from me. He wants to say sorry, over and over, but I won't let those words come out his mouth as long as mine is pressed over it. I drove myself crazy for him and I won't have him telling me I was stupid to run myself to the edge like that. It doesn't matter. All that matters is me and him and our bodies, our love.

But the perfection has to end, I guess. He left my bed, my house and me and I held back tears with every breath of my being as he walked away. He saved me from everything I thought was the world, but now, he won't be there to do it ever again. Can I live? It's long past midnight and he's the only one walking, nay, staggering on the empty streets. I need one last kiss. He can't say goodbye; he knows he can't break me again. But we share another parting kiss, and it's so obvious that it won't be the last. But it's beautiful all the same as the night ebbs away with what's left of our minds."


That, Inari God, was my translation of your poem into prose. Have a pleasant and good day. Oh, and each paragraph is one stanza.

lyrical_gaah52:

"I wanted him so much, I needed to be with him forever. But every time, all I got was another excuse, another reason and explanation as to why not. He left me but I went running after him; it was degrading and I can accept that. But all the degradation and humiliation in the world couldn't challenge my feelings for him. There are questions in my mind, asking me if this will just all fall apart again, but I want nothing more than to push them away.

Finally, I can feel his kisses, his touches and carresses against my body again and the sharpness completes me. I need this and I won't ever change my mind. Perhapds in the morning, he and I will both wonder why we did it, but this is a time to live for the moment. I've always needed him and he knew that, even when he tried to run from me. He wants to say sorry, over and over, but I won't let those words come out his mouth as long as mine is pressed over it. I drove myself crazy for him and I won't have him telling me I was stupid to run myself to the edge like that. It doesn't matter. All that matters is me and him and our bodies, our love.

But the perfection has to end, I guess. He left my bed, my house and me and I held back tears with every breath of my being as he walked away. He saved me from everything I thought was the world, but now, he won't be there to do it ever again. Can I live? It's long past midnight and he's the only one walking, nay, staggering on the empty streets. I need one last kiss. He can't say goodbye; he knows he can't break me again. But we share another parting kiss, and it's so obvious that it won't be the last. But it's beautiful all the same as the night ebbs away with what's left of our minds."


That, Inari God, was my translation of your poem into prose. Have a pleasant and good day. Oh, and each paragraph is one stanza.

And that so totally outshone what I wrote.
I loved every last word of that.

It's pretty much the same thing as what you wrote. I just got to use more words and sentences because prose is a little less restrictive. It doesn't have to have a rythym or anything. You can write whatever. But sometimes, it's a lot harder than writing poetry.

lyrical_gaah52:

It's pretty much the same thing as what you wrote. I just got to use more words and sentences because prose is a little less restrictive. It doesn't have to have a rythym or anything. You can write whatever. But sometimes, it's a lot harder than writing poetry.

It is but then again, poetry is hard to write sometimes.
It's still fun playing around with styles though.

Tru dat sista word up in da hood.

This one really.... got me for some reason.
It's brilliant.

You write with such flare and beauty

What can I say except that your poetry totally overshadows everything I've done?

wooow.. that's really great..

Wow.
Thank you guys.

And Panda, my work could never overshadow yours.
Yours owns my heart.

I havent read it yet, but i already know it is good