Sometimes

sometimes...

my thoughts regress

as the beat in my chest

looms on the dimming excess

of the pain you have left

and of the sirens of regrets

and I wonder where it all went?

how was it all spent--

so quick with no caress

to soothe these wounds, the tempest

now rages, and cages

in my desperate attempt

to flee and fly and forget.

What was I thinking?

I look at your pictures but they make you seem sleezy.

You were something brief, potent yet unmistakably easy.

And now I actually feel an anxiety in my stomach, so queasy;

No matter how hard you tried, you still couldn't appease me.

I was once fond of your essence, enthralled in the chase of the moment,

but honestly, right now, I think it wasn't well-paced nor well-spent.

Reminiscing, I wonder where my mind was encased or where it went,
perhaps your poison caused my judgement to be misplaced, and vacant.

I sipped in your breath as if I had been drinking,
and after it all, I do not know what I had been thinking!
It may be true that I was almost far gone, just sinking,
But my desire for you has been exponentially shrinking.

My attraction to you must have been fogged with faux lust,

because for some odd moments I thought you had earned my trust.
But your speedy departure has been a necessary must,
And I will no longer let my heart roll around in the dust.

The Visitor

A visitor drifted into my town,

and we met on the corner of Love and Lust.

His voice so deep, mysterious, and profound;

to explore it further was a must.

Walking among the giants of the city,

his hand kept mine warm and protected.

He said, "You're so beautiful. So pretty,"
and for some small moments, we connected.

Gazing over candlelight,
with soft jazz interludes,
We shared memories of a long time passed.
Desire was winning the fight,
as my heart did finally conclude,
to kiss could not be wrong, though it wouldn't last.

With fingers interlaced,
we traveled across the Brooklyn bridge,
the city forever shining, so glorious, momentous.
With judgement misplaced,
I was fighting the brevity of this image;

my heart knew I'd be losing, this nakedness, too dangerous.

We continued on to the center of Times Square,

where the stairs are red and the crowd is contagious.

His lips brushed mine as my heart echoed a prayer,

but what we had will remain as always nameless.

It all had been for no more than three days,
but something so beautiful had occurred.
He taught me that kisses could come as bouquets,
a dozen or more, enthralling and completely absurd.

I've been told that when good things come,

they shouldn't be questioned.

They are worthwhile, passionate and seldom,

and may even be pre-destined.

And alas, I do long for yet another moment,

but more so, I pray that I may be Pardoned...

for The visitor had came and went,

leaving my lips stained, crimsoned, abandoned.