Letters to Dandelion Read online

Page 2


  And I sometimes think,

  “I may have never met you.”

  How unlucky would that have been?

  My luck’s never been great, given the circumstances.

  I am so lucky to ever have.

  Why wouldn’t I celebrate …

  In who you are?

  No matter how close we may be,

  Near or far.

  Whether you like me or hate,

  Prefer me or abhor me,

  I love you.

  Because you mean no one any harm.

  Because I can see the good,

  And I can see the strength,

  And I can feel the peace,

  And I can sense the struggle.

  I can watch the light, brightly, as it shines in your smile,

  And revel in the soft music of your voice,

  as I receive the wisdom of your travels.

  I can witness the pride in your stride

  and the humbleness in your silence.

  I cannot tell you, in the scope of this sometimes harsh and brutal world,

  Just how truly beautiful you are.

  Where an energy so intangible, seems to shower away from you like

  pollen in the spring, has taken root and now grows inside my heart.

  I can never possess you.

  My touch might ruin you,

  my kiss may devalue you,

  but my honest love for you,

  allows me to celebrate, that I met you

  I think you are a wonderful person.

  No matter if you feel nothing for me.

  I cannot control the world. I can only witness it.

  And wish in it.

  My wish is to get to know you.

  Be a friend.

  And feel the snow that falls softly in my being when I am close to you.

  I know you feel this way about someone.

  Maybe just not me.

  Show me your heart.

  Within all of Your precious beauty,

  please (consider) showing me, Your heart.

  Show me the spot, where with which

  I can start –

  To speak words of deep love to,

  towards in the dark.

  Please, please, please allow me,

  - to see the spot,

  where with a wet fingered kiss,

  I can caress, the access of hidden bliss,

  the secret to Your cavernous seductiveness.

  The place where if I were allowed to go,

  I know,

  exists room to grow; room to get to know

  what makes You, You.

  What helplessly draws me in,

  electing to be the guardian,

  to the center of Your precious being.

  Maybe Your heart has been broken before ?

  I could find all the pieces.

  Maybe the trust has dried inside ?

  I could moisten the pain with pure tears to cry.

  Maybe it’s only a matter of time,

  before You decide,

  to love again.

  So, please show me the spot, where I may -

  Or may not;

  become a part.

  But, at least, I would know where the radiance of who

  You have grown to become,

  had gotten its start.

  I would never hurt you….

  For being the POT,

  I know how the level of intensity that heat can feel.

  Being the FLOWER,

  I know the slow dry death of not being, watered,

  Not being given sunshine,

  And the sting of a vindictive bee. (many actually)

  Being a BAR OF GOLD,

  Sometimes pondering my own luster,

  being desired for all the wrong reasons,

  And knowing of my “true value”, wanting to be with the right

  person to enjoy our worth together.

  Also from the standpoint of being Gold, I can envision your incredible potential.

  From being the STRAY CAT,

  Hiding my pained and saddened face,

  Running away from children wanting to play,

  And howling and crying my hungry self to sleep in need of a friend in the

  darkness.

  As being likened to the FIGHTER,

  Who has won and lost many bloody battles,

  but decided he would much rather have spent that time loving instead.

  For being the DEMENTED PRISONER,

  With just enough sense left to yell at you through the iron bars,

  “Don’t come this way !”

  For being the ANGERED CHILD,

  Who sought to be strong,

  Only to end up so weak,

  Sought to Die,

  Due to living,

  Hated the World,

  And wonders if any of this has even changed.

  Yet still hopes and believes for the one person who may help to make this journey in life worthwhile and meaningful.

  For being the MIRROR,

  Who would never lie to you, but show you your every distinct detail,

  Your inner beauty,

  Your slight imperfections,

  Your amazing progress.

  Do this quietly,

  Lovingly,

  Unconditionally,

  And all at the same while, exposing my own qualities

  with you to share.

  Who being the DREAMER,

  Can completely see your dreams,

  Know the desires of your heart,

  And would stand against the entire world with you until they became a reality.

  I would never hurt you …

  Because, to me?

  All of you is what I see,

  Our experiences, could easily make US a “WE”.

  We have both,

  Sought at the same level.

  Fought at the same level,

  Loved at the same level,

  and Lost at the same level.

  Why do I say this and not try to make a comparison?

  Because all experiences are of the “utmost” matching to the exposition of one’s life.

  A painful occurrence, is a painful occurrence.

  Who could ever say:

  A broken thumb, hurts less than

  a broken toe?

  What? If anything, hurts more or less?

  I would never hurt you… my precious…

  Cause when I look at you, I see me standing there.

  Sometimes doubting myself.

  Careful not to say the wrong things,

  Cracking a smile, when I may want to crack a skull.

  (Especially my own)

  Walking alone a victor and sometimes a victim.

  Lying in the sun, resting and breathing – My skin, heaving –

  Air pulsating under my body, the many scars and gouges from

  Lies

  Hard Words,

  Deceptions,

  Broken Trust,

  Anger … and

  Disappointments.

  Need I say more?

  Need I spread more? (pain after all of this realization of it?)

  I’d rather die…

  I would never hurt you …

  And the only reason I can say this, is because,

  I’ve tasted pain’s soulless sting –

  Been in the clutches of anger,

  Behind the imprisonment of separation –

  Walked the hollow void of betrayal-

  And screamed through tears of abandonment-

  I would never hurt you …

  For you can’t see the tears that have dried into this paper, to confirm this to you.

  These are not tears of sadness, but tears of great Joy!

  In my ability to clearly tell you this.

  that

  I would never hurt you …

  Just because ….

  I bought a painting

  For a girl.

  For our house.

 
; Out of love.

  But all I got

  from her,

  was pushed away,

  with a shove –

  Because of her perception,

  that her life was over,

  yet her heart still beat

  within her precious chest.

  Her eyes were like stone,

  while she still laughed about

  the road, now much harder

  as it glistened with flint.

  I begged her to end her stint

  of inversion, because the

  equation held three other

  integers, and a math problem

  will work out, or you scrap

  the board.

  I held her tiny, soft hand

  on a late night ride, and

  told her I loved her, but

  she was quite snide.

  But, I don’t mind – I understand

  where she is. I’ve seen worse

  and I know the curse – of

  a tender heart, which is what

  I know she’s got.

  I mentioned she is my other half,

  my beautiful, non-conjoined twin.

  I want her to know everything –

  about me, cause there’s nothing

  to hide – right my fan base?

  I would like her next to me,

  at night, breathing softly,

  shivering a little, as my fat,

  wraps up all the blankets,

  and I cover her with my

  body to give her ease.

  To comfort her through

  defective dreams and nurture

  her while in this state.

  Moments exist of great

  self- torture and a journey

  within to debate – to scale grey

  mountains of doubt in order

  to eradicate the venomous

  villains of past insurgents.

  I want to be her warrior, if

  only she would knight me

  an ally and together, side by

  side we can fight her battles

  to reduce her troubles. Trust –

  I have my own, and my wars

  continue on all levels with

  no ray of stoppage in sight.

  We are both getting older,

  the clock is ticking and the

  road is thinning. Who said

  life was a punishment

  assignment – just go ask

  the cheery, fat, happy rich-os

  next door – (well, not in my

  neighborhood.) And not

  hippos in any zoo either.

  Bottom line is – I love her.

  I want to do with her, not

  try – I’ve tried and failed

  before, and in some things,

  failure is not an option.

  So, I pursue, her, with hope in my

  heart, purity in my words. A quill

  of poetry to hunt her down and my

  arms open with my heart flowing.

  Shields up Scotty, we need to be

  prepared for battle.

  Because she’s a handful.

  And all I have, is I painting

  I bought for her.

  I knew you once.

  Before

  I don’t know when,

  But I knew when I walked through your door.

  The feeling was strong,

  so crushingly strong.

  I loved you once. Over time.

  And I fought for you,

  Always. As I am doing right now.

  You have been in my heart since the beginning of time.

  My time at least.

  However long that has been.

  I may have been thrown to the Lions, just for looking your way.

  I may have been the Soldier, who hugged the arrow into my heart serving as your shield,

  for that pain was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to not having you.

  Oh Death’s sting I gladly drank, the sword was a tickle, for I would die for you

  right now, in this day and age.

  I may have been the slave which bore your gondola on my crooked, beaten back,

  or the Master, who adored you from afar, but chance I often lacked.

  I could have been the General, who after decades of war,

  came home to find you long gone.

  Or the Minstrel, who without your beauty,

  had completely lost his song.

  All I know, is my history with you is long. Very long,

  For time after time, I stretched out my hand only to grasp

  the nervous, cold air intended to be your touch.

  I love you so much.

  I was created to find you.

  I am destined to search for you,

  I was born to live for you,

  And I will Die;

  Again and Again.

  Time after Time.

  Until you are finally mine.

  Please allow me a chance ?

  he practiced, as he whispered

  in the dark.

  Please allow me a chance ?

  those words came, bubbling

  up from within his heart.

  They were the default.

  The words that fills his

  soul, every time he sees

  her face, and hears her

  voice, and touches her

  skin, and tastes her beauty,

  and smells her aroma -

  from all five senses, he

  knows that it is her only.

  A chance is all he could

  ever hope for. Just like any

  dream. Only, she was now

  the biggest part of it, and

  the most real, the best to

  experience, like a seductive,

  placid haze in a drug trip,

  the greatest anticipated

  Christmas gift of all, or

  just a breath of fresh air,

  blown over the face of

  someone who has not loved

  in a long time.

  He realizes that a chance

  with her is all he needs.

  Because a whole new

  world in his heart would

  open, and a river of trust,

  happiness and love, could

  flow into a mind of

  dedication, in order to

  build a solid foundation

  for a supportive life for

  them both.

  He tells her he loves her,

  but he wonders if she hears it?

  He wonders if he says it correctly.

  Or if his heart is engaged?

  If she can feel his anticipation

  when he has not seen her in

  a while, or the fear, of which

  there is not much other than,

  to affect him, when he feels

  he won’t see her again.

  Does he say it correctly?

  It’s not just about words,

  actions are always louder,

  but words are an action

  and a place of beginning,

  towards reasoning.

  So many thoughts come to

  mind. About what things

  could be like, if he could

  see her every day, and enjoy

  her company and just be

  happily in love with her.

  Seems like that’s the dream

  that many speak of, and

  spend a large amount of

  time, seeking to find.

  Please allow me a chance ?

  Is what he’s saying,

  But, what he really means is …

  Please allow me to open a door,

  for me to truly love you, and

  for you to know me, and for

  us to trust each other, and

  for our lives to come together?

  Please allow me a chance ?

  To win your heart,

  and to ease y
our mind,

  to calm your fears,

  and sooth your pains,

  to build your esteem,

  and to make you smile,

  to kiss you every day,

  to hold your hand,

  to dream with you,

  to stand with you,

  to fight your battles,

  to make your dreams

  come true, to make my

  dreams come true,

  to make our dreams

  come true,

  All just by loving you.

  like what you did

  for me – because

  meeting you, loving

  you – experiencing you

  has been out of my dreams.

  And it is a dream I

  fear against, and hope

  towards never ending.

  As you can tell,

  this also is no poem,

  it’s real words,

  from a real heart,

  with a real dream,

  and a real love,

  that’s all just for you,

  my beautiful

  Dandelion.

  Please allow me a chance ?

  I love you so much.

  My hope for you this Day …

  Is for you to have a vision, or a reflection, of

  just how beautiful and wonderful and special

  you really are.