Me O'Clock

Correct today, Wrong tomorrow.

This was an infatuation gone wrong.

I see you with my eyes, but I feel you with my soul.

I touch you with these hands but I love you with this heart.

I can smell you, hear you, but these senses do not quench this thirst.

Your presence keeps me still.

Feelings and emotions are the starting line up and sadness was the first man off the bench.

No need for green, cause you keep me high.

No need for juice, cause you keep me feeling nice.

A Different Approach (v.2)

For once I just wanted to say something other than I’m good when you ask “how are you”.

Something along the lines of, I wake up every day with you on my mind.

When I turn to the other side, I wish it was you on that empty side.

My every breath ends with an echo of the syllables of your name.

Looking up at the blue sky, I see a portrait of your angelic face.

I get “this butterflies in your stomach” kinda feeling that feels so good inside when I’m graced with your presence.

You know I get that “weak to my knees” kinda feeling, when I hear my name escape from your lips.

This game of rock papers scissors shoot ended with a wounded rock beaten by a piece of paper inked by every memory we have together.

But everyone knows that this round is a best of three, and right now I’m hungrier than number 23 for that ring.

Ah my heart has turned into this petal-less rose as a symbol that you love me not with thorns that prick and prick until this body goes numb.

Not one droplet of pain is felt as I continue to brand your name on my heart.

T’was a night where I felt your warmth radiating from your hug that was followed by a smile that would brighten even a poor man’s day.

Every night I sleep with a smile on my face knowing I will be taking “A Walk to Remember” with you as the night passes or a Gondola ride overlooking the beauty of Venice.

Ah what a dream it was that ended with a rude awakening that led me from flight school to not looking so bright school.

A kite without its wind.

A sundae without its cherry.

A too cool for school college jock without his Trojan.

A king without his pretty little thing.

Poetry without her beauty.

To prove my love I would tattoo your name on my chest, I would give you my last dollar, I would walk 1600 miles to say to you that there is not one bone, one nerve, one droplet of blood in me that does not love you.

I would do every Notebook, Walk to Remember, Twilight, Every cliché ever made for you to show you, you would have been the Best I Ever Had.

But right now the only response that this wounded petal-less beaten loveless guy has to say is I’m good.

Just, good.