The Whispers Cry

In the interim, I look at the man in the mirror and speak to him; he whispers of lost love and unceasing suffering. He speaks of the pain that never ends. He talks about who is more precious than even the most rare diamonds and implores me to never betray the heart of a woman. Maybe I’ll see him again, but until then, I will internalize his sayings in deep contemplation. Before he left, he told me to remember him and he weeps at every inference of the tears that rolled down the face of his beautiful woman after her heart was broken. It was the way she looked at him with tears in her eyes, that so touched him. Through wails of regret, he admitted to me in secrecy that of her love, he is no longer worthy and that he sincerely wants her heart to heal and he desperately wants her to be happy; his whispers are that of a contrite man shattered and decimated in totality from his past iniquities. I try to comfort him with references of beautiful memories, but still, he cries unceasingly. He speaks softly when he speaks of her, reaching as if she is still there; and still, he weeps unceasingly. Through loving whispers, he weeps unceasingly.


Vicious words wound deeply through fierce lips, spoken vitriolically; without pause, long held sentiments of resentment flow from the tongue fluently — in an instant, love is retracted and utterly shattered, marking a new reality. A feeling of impending desolation creeps in, exploiting the soft underbelly of vulnerability mercilessly. Tears are shed unceasingly as tormented weeping is carried out in cold darkness silently. The heart is pierced with the dagger of sadness then ripped apart violently. The soul withers as tearful eyes gaze lifelessly. Sleep is not found ; the appetite wanes, and in heavy sorrow the body moves listlessly. Hopes of forever are shattered instantly; the utterly broken heart feels the pull of death’s gravity, and in a depressive state, the tearful broken hearted question their sanity.

Tonight, My Angel

Tonight, hold me and let me me cry long held tears of pain in my vulnerability. Let your hair brush against my solemn face and kiss me in my weeping. Allow me to find comfort in the warmth of your breasts and peacefully sleep, finally finding my elusive rest. Tearfully, let me tell you all the things that you mean to me in sincerity; let me breathe the breath that you breathe and passionately give you all the love that is within me. Let me wash your hair in the wonderful aroma of nourishing conditioner with chamomile and lavender and blow-dry your flowing river right after. I find solace in the simple things, like watching you roll the length of your hair with curlers or seeing you moisturize your skin with body butter in the vanity mirror. Just your presence alone saves me from mental anguish and its terror. I adore the subtle intimacy of your loving whispers; tell me your feminine secrets, for I am in love with you that deeply. Let me see what you see and feel what you feel in all the ranges of your sensitive emotions, not just when you are happy. With love, you restore the pieces of my once shattered heart, slowly and methodically. What can a mortal render to an angel, save what he himself is and hopes to be? I give you even the marrow of my bones, my heart, and the very essence of me. I turn to you my angel; I turn to you, and you look upon me with gentle eyes. The words I transcribe from the bowels of my mind would have to be written in the ink of white gardenias, crushed rose petals and tears to even begin to describe the deep intimacy of my emotions. I love you with a transcendent love that pierces the clouds and touches heaven’s gates; tonight, my sweet love — hold me, sing to me, and lovingly caress my face.

True Essence

In the stillness of the quiet hours, a transcendent peace falls upon her.
Her heart was once coldly broken, but now she flourishes in the warmth of healing.
To breathe, she thought she needed him and wept at the thought of never seeing him again,
But her pain turned out to be heaven’s blessing, because she reclaimed her true essence,

and in her discovery, she found that she was exceedingly strong and deeply loving.
She also ascertained, that truly loving herself was the key to being strengthened;
Beautifully, she closes her eyes in her own embrace — the light of her spirit
Wonderfully exuding through the ethereal radiance of her face.
She is gorgeous in her nakedness with an aura that could never be erased.
To have her love, is to have a gift that could never be replaced;
She is light. She is loved. She is safe. Always.

Depths of Love

Love’s secret depths are only found when tears are shed
And the strength of its power is taken to the edge,
When circumstances seem insurmountable and at the end;
It is only then, that it is truly tested and the beauty of its
intensity and potency is manifested.

Agony and Intimacy

In their agony they found true intimacy.
With tears in their eyes, they kissed deeply,
And all night, wept, and shared their stories;
They then undressed, and he took her into his arms gently
And made love to her passionately.
She whispered to him, You belong to me
And looking into her eyes, he replied, Yes baby,
I love you with everything within me
They had both suffered so much tragedy.
Without rings, in love, they are truly married.

Let Go

The tears she cries come from a deep sorrow that wounded her long ago.
She is in pain, but because her spirit is beautiful, sometimes it does not show.
She is an angel, who will transcend and touch the heavens, but she does not yet know.
She has held on for so long, but to heal, she will learn to let go.