k_l_d

                              ,

              If I were to write to you, I would fill you with the past year of my life. Who I am now, who I want to be, where I want to go. Tell you I am sorry, although the blame lies in you. The days went longer without your words. My nights remained darker; you were the light to my soul. I want you to know we connected through the sounds, the sounds of our songs, and so many songs yet to be heard. I spoke to you through them and I swear I heard your reply. Tell me where your mind is these days. Where your body lies among it all. This is me reaching out for the one. And this is me done being poetic:
What do your insides scream out when you're sitting alone? What does your heart and your mind long for as my abscence grows deeper? A calendar day cannot be complete without a single thought of you. You. (You as the soul and not the physical being). It's the words, places, songs, people, stories, that tear me apart when they unseemingly collect into you. Comfortingly, I cannot escape. Times do come when I feel as if my body can take the chase no more. But, instead, my soul lives on for the times I willingly fight sleep only to search out our favorite memories in my mind, while creating imaginary new ones to occupy my time. I live each day as if we've explored the ends of the earth with the other at our side. It feels like we have. My life, as I know it, is in desperate need of the person you are. I need you. This hurts. (My words grow short, but the minutes of each day seem to multiply). I feel more alone than I have before. Before when I thought the same, my insights were twisted, perspectives changed. As reality sets in, I realize the wholeness I had before. Before. Even if just for a moment in the entire panorama of my life. You were my other half, even in the sense of our friendship. I would be happy, no, pleased, no satisfied with just that. A friendship where my words are not a mystery and my ideas not a polar opposite. I want to feel I belong somewhere. I both presently think and distantly thought that it was somewhere in your life. You're not in my life. I check on how you're doing, unbekownst to you. I want to know you're still alive and breathing,how you change on the surface, and still I remain dreaming about the stateof your deeper meaning. Can you say the same? I arrange us meeting in my mind. It feels so distant. I wonder daily if such a day will come. Can come. The guilt remains, but not without the need. The need for your mind, for your inspiration, for your intelligence, for my escape from the world around me. Were you left this same way I am? I wonder these everyday. I can't say, nor imagine your name without these questions. I feel guilty even thinking about you. Is that a sin too? I've gotten one off my chest, but my consience has yet to cease uneasiness. Am I just crazy? or is this how you should feel about life?: Excited to wake up and hear someone else's thoughts? Eager to learn and never know what's around  the corner? Apprehensive for what might be? How much better can this get? Where can a friendship go? Will I ever know, or more importantly, feel? I always wonder if you can answer these for me.
Letters require a closing, artificially, so does this. Although my letter does end, I believe what we have never will. A goodbye is inappropriate, unimportant and unwelcomed. 'Farewell' recalls a distance, a void, a direction opposite of yours. So I continue with my hope in a future some far ways off. We know not a time, place, or reasoning for when our paths finally cross. I finish only on a quote I have written to you before, and its meaning has not diminished, its value, increasingly more. Unitl then, I stand strong, waiting for your reply to the secrets of my heart. So... "You will always hold my faith, and I will never be too far away".
                                                                                                                                                                                         Always,
                                                                                                                                                                                              K-l

For Tomorrow

I live in anticipation of the moment you break the silence.
Let you be the one.
Though I can't initiate, I won't object your words.
Escaping opportunity is unwise. I can learn from you.
But the exchange not mutual.
I promised time as our drug of choice;
Our remedy to heal,
Passion to feel,
Breakthrough to cure.

So we wait.
Wait.
Until tomorrow comes, and it begins again.
Neither sleep.
We repeat and repeat
The ever-present cycle of forget and regret.