sólo le quedan

Te amo con todo mi corazón

su alma es mi paz,

tu corazón mi amor, y tú eres mi todo.

pensamientos de ustedes son como un susurro en la noche,

suave y reconfortante.

Cuando pienso en ti,

es como si usted está aquí,

que me sostiene cerca,

envolviendo en tus brazos fuertes y presionando

contra mí su pecho,

que me permite sentir el ritmo

de tu corazón.

Cuando pienso en ti,

no queda nada en mi cabeza.

Me olvido de todo,

sólo le quedan.

 

english:

i love you with all my heart. your soul is my peace, your heart my love, and you are my everything. thoughts of you are like a whisper in the night, soft, comforting. when i think of you, it’s as if you are here, holding me close, wrapping me in your strong arms and pressing me against your chest, allowing me to feel the rhythm of your heart. when i think of you, nothing remains in my head. I forget all else, only you remain.

**this was not written recently. several poems i post here are written the day they are posted while others are from my past. this is from my past.

home

in the depths of my life

i existed as a shadow,

lost behind echoes of

my former self.

lost behind roles

forced upon me,

expectations of society

swallowing me whole.

trapped behind grey mist

barely recognizable,

you found me.

i breathed.

reached forth as you reached out.

grabbed onto your hand,

as i broke through

the torn shadows,

leaving behind my broken world.

bursting back into life,

running toward you

the one who loved me so long ago,

the one who never stopped loving me,

the one who still loves me today.

the one who believes in me,

always has,

always will.

you are my soul,

my heart,

my passion,

my peace.

always.

as i lose myself in your arms,

i exhale.

i am

home.

deafening

creaks, clicks, and soft movements

float through the air

inside an old farmhouse

deep in the woods.

a gentle whooshing

of air carries the

echoes of the house’s

life

along their way.

my eyes still shut,

i listen

as  my body stretches

against the covers of the bed,

adding a soft rustling

to the echoes of a still life

wafting in the air.

as i peer overhead

through half-opened eyes,

mind still half asleep,

the white ceiling

stares back at me,

blank,

unmoving,

empty.

i wish to be the ceiling.

floating above all else,

a whisper, an echo, not affected

by anything occurring underneath

it’s protective shield.

it does not think.

it does not remember.

it just is.

as i lie there,

drowsy,

stretching,

blinking my green eyes toward the heavens,

i wish

the silence swirling around me

were not so very

deafening.