Not My Everything, But My Everything Else

The need to write stronger than knowing
what to say. Don’t know the words to use,
but I know the actions attached and
hope to know what they’d make you do.

Oh many times I have called it
quits without your knowledge. Introduced
other men, introduced other feelings, but
back to your fading face I will
always go.

You aren’t my Everything, but
you’re my everything else.
A perfect piece to a broken part.
Stitched my heart with false starts
and some memories of undeserved
love.
Cross my heart, I hope to die
If ever I did hurt you with my fear and lies.

We’re just both working for Maslow’s
highest and anywhere I’d go
with you to tag along and find it.
You aren’t my all, but you’re my damn-near-close.

You aren’t my Everything, but
your my everything else. A
perfect piece to my broken parts.

I’ll make it worth your while if
you promise your heart.
I’ll give you all which required
save the basic rights of self.
With My life, I’d be your help

My Nora to your Jay
and I’ll stick by your side
with all my hope-to-dies.

You aren’t my Everything,but
you’re my everything else.
A perfect part to my damn-near broken part.

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A Taunting Mind

A mind that taunts one
thousand thoughts in the thick layers of the night.

What is it that brings this mis-timed
mind into the daylight hours
when the moon still catches-light?

Visions of binging fingers
continuously grazing the
palette of yours.

Imposter, frauded and fooling
those of who I am not.

What can this rest bring that
I cannot reach during the day?
Why must I sleep when it does nothing
but pass the day into days,
counting and reshuffling, forcing
me to move on?

Layer-thin walls.
I hear in them my fighting thoughts.

Oh how I miss your face.
Oh how I miss your voice.
Oh how I love you so.

And how alone and cold the weeknights and ends are.