Sometimes you run into a void,
What you gave doesn't come back.
You're shown the things you lack
And nothing you do seems right

Be gentle with your heavy heart
to eyes that refuse to see who you are
You maybe gentle and do your part
but to be kind to yourself is an art.

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Return to me like a weary traveller,
To a home that helps you be a dreamer

Return like the blossoms every year
gone because they must ,far yet near

Return like the books with pages worn
soaked in memories, new and old

Return like the smiles, from a newborn
all on your own,not because you're alone

Return to me like it's not me you return to,
Return because you are me and that's who you are coming home to.

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Some days you take two steps back ,
Some days , it's that 2 am midnight snack

Some mornings are full of clouds
Some nights you are filled with doubts

Some weeks are harder than you thought
Some months, an endless drought

The sum of these somes ,
The biggest of hum drums
can hurt a little less ,
can cure some of the stress

Just reach out to one when you feel there's none
Trust me when I tell you, you're not alone
while you think there's noone ,
count again, you're still not done .

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Walking along the path to my tired shoes,
I found a road that led to you
Grazing along the skin on my bones,
were memories etched so I was never alone
Sinking and rising in the waters of my soul
I found you but I lost me from before you

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The friends checked into a high end resort , all set for a "cool" vacation. There plans were interrupted between torrential downpour and the thunder kissing the mountains. It's there ,when the WiFi signal disconnected that they all truly connected.

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For a while you made me forget that good men exist . They are all around, waiting to be found once we exhaust our fascination with the bad boys. I meet them in cabs,and elevators, holding the doors and smiling just like you once did. I find them striking conversations like you used to, the conversations that just start because you want to know them better and transcend into universes. See , I have realized it's not good men that don't exist or good women to hold them. We just don't find each other. Here's to hoping, the missing pieces will someday collide and explode into something beautiful ...

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From being the pages of my mind's diary...you became what I wrote about in one.

Nothing changed. The ink is still you.

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On your way to silence,you'll find our laughter as milestones.

On your way to forgetting me,you'll find remembrance as frequent rest stops.

On your way to moving on,you'll find that there's no stopping a love like ours..

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When I leave,I'll leave behind trails of me ..trails that lead you to me like merging roads ending in the same destination..

It's the day I'm gone darling,that you'll breathe me on each journey ,smell me in the petals scattered on the way. ..

You didn't love me...you lived me...I was you...and when I leave ..I'll take you with me...and you'll have some of me...

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It all begins with the little details. The books they love,the places you locked eyes,the corner where you first stole a kiss,the curve of their lip when they smile, the tiny wrinkle near their eyes when they laugh too hard.

It's these seashells that you're left with once they leave and you struggle to find new meanings to old details because haven't you heard...

"The devil is in the details " ??

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