simply perfect

Do you remember the precipice. Whence you jumped.

Beautiful.

How it all. Fell oh so naturally. Into place.

Every. Single. Moment.

A collage of perfection. Angel blessed.

The beauty of love. Is about loving. And letting.

And being.

Oh the being.

And because you know. Intuitively. A premature death. Lay on the horizon. You savor each moment. As if the last.

How delicious it is.

Talking til dawn. Holding hands.

Laughter. On the phone.

Kisses. On skin.

Champagne. On rooftops.

Running in the rain.

Two A.M. Balcony moments. City asleep.

Chocolate sundaes. On Sunday. Walking across. Royals on Princes Bridge.

Laughing. Like little kids. In your Sunday best.

Eyes cast. With tenderness. Softness. Deep affection.

Corner kisses. Candy promises. Sweet caresses.

Midnight love. Indigo sky. A thousand stars.

You couldn’t get enough. Of each other.

And you were. His everything. And all.

Before the taint. The crash. The burn.

Confusion. Doubt. Frustration.

And you can ask yourself. All the questions. Drive yourself. Mad.

Absolutely mad.

Or you can. Drown out. The noise.

The white noise.

Love. Bask. Know.

That for a heartbeat. It was.

Simply perfect.

So be. That.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


free agent

I found myself standing. Outside. Where we had. Dined.

Do you remember. That night. My love.

Looking up. Archaic architecture. And for a brief. Moment. I missed you. A heartbeat. Skipped.

Your wisdom. That he lacked.

Then destiny stepped in. And severed ties.

So here I am. Back to square one. Missing you.

Or do I.

Go home. Boy.

Trying to fool. The spectators.

But. Trapped. Battled. Torn.

He had her.

Who do you try to fool. When all you fool. Is yourself. So go on. Tell those lies.

And so perhaps. He was never.

A free agent. To begin with.

But I am.

Free spirits. Are always attracted to. Free spirits.

But a free spirit. Will recognize.

One who is not.

And let go.

So don’t hold the wall.

Jump.

Feels good to be free.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


february (reprise ii)

February. Here we are again.

A love hate relationship. We have.

For three years. Of your twenty eight. Days.

You plump my heart. To false pretenses. Only to tear it to shreds. Feed it to the dogs.

But in love. And pain. Shall I revel. The good. The bad. The ugly.

The wicked. Oh so wicked.

And so much fun.

Bask in your. Decadence. Indulgence. Extravagance.

And take. Your offerings. With balance. For fear no more. Your moments.

Pure.

For through heartache. Do we learn. To appreciate.

Love.

No regrets. Just love.

Fearless love.

And I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


the coming

You knew this was coming. Before it arrived.

And in the arrival. Was the beginning.

But no one. Saw it coming.

But you.

You did. Before he arrived.

And ended.

And you loved. Anyway.

A madness. Misunderstood.

Why?

Hope.

Drives even the sane. To heights of madness. To take the plunge.

To live like mortals.

And in the humanity.

Is the bliss. The joy. The happiness.

Is the pain. The bleed. The heartache.

But therein lies the beauty.

Of embracing. The coming.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


the crossfire

All it was.

Was a goddess.

Stuck in a crossfire.

Between a weakling.

And a boy.

The strong. Will recognize. Weakness. In a nanosecond. And choose to violate. Or leave.

The weak. Will cling. Never relinquish. Possess. Start a riot. Stand in the way. Of love. And freedom.

A goddess. Will not.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


the demigod (reprise)

A true man is not. Marked by his age. But by the way. He handles his power.

And allows you to stand. In yours.

Then rises to meet you.

A man secure. Would not allow. The white noise. To taint his heart.

Or the beat of his step.

A true warrior. Is strong enough. To listen. To the honor. Of love.

So if love existed. Why had it not been explored.

Before.

Before the coming. Of a goddess.

For all it was.

Was one who felt threatened. Refused to relinquish.

And a boy who thought. He could play. With the gods.

One who never wanted to. Miss out on anything shinier. Nothing wrong with.

A mortal philosophy.

We are gifted. To have found. Each other.

But a fickle heart. Has no place. With the gods.

So leave the world. Behind.

And demigods fallen.

For we triumph. Rise. Immortal.

Fearless. In love.

To face. A new horizon.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


collage (reprise)

How do you put into moments.

The words.

That become reality.

Sentences that cut. Like knives. Into the bleed of a heart.

The break. In a voice. Wavering.

A heart begs. Another yearns.

For now. An ocean lies. In the bed. Between us.

Doubt.

Eats into. The marrows. Of bones. Like maggots. Feasting. On a hot day.

Doubt.

Like acid. On a raw wound. Burning its toxic. Through arterial veins.

Actions that speak. Louder than words.

But.

A look. A heartbeat. A breath.

And then.

Nothing.

But the gods. Grant mercy. On the moments that were.

Beautiful. Fragments of forever.

When they existed. Once upon a time.

We will always. Have that. My love.

Blessed. Are we.

Should. Could. Would. Matters nought.

Resurrect thyself.

For as I love.

Unconditionally.

So too I let go. Of.

You. Me. Us.

Completely.

Until the angels cross our paths. Once more.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015


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