Thoughts of a Violinist Giraffe

Do not stop and wonder about affection abandoned to the capricious, cutting wind. Do not stop and wonder  why the firmament, full yet fleeting, shines dim. Do not stop and wonder if all the spoken silence is not quite enough to convince  that the heart shown is hollow. Do not stop and wonder where she will go,  somehow lost in pristine snow and barren woods, or if it’s well to follow. Do not stop and wonder whether moving forward  is still the better recourse that was decided upon and taken. Do not stop and wonder whether there’s any more wonder left to admire aside from her -  and yes, you are mistaken if you insist that she is all that’s left for admiration. No. Do not stop.  No more wonders.  She is no longer yours to ponder. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Initially written on my Tumblr page. Didn't have the time to wait 'til I was home to write it. Had to write it immediately ('cause inspiration and all that jazz)! Cheers!

The tall, white cups of coffee - the stark black font and emerald, spherically encased mermaid that tastefully adorns them - are blurs in the foreground. She hurries in the backdrop of a somewhat crowded, picturesque scene in the coffee shop. She doesn't stand out normally - there is nothing at first glance that would give reason          to lavish even the least attention on her. And yet, like an apple landing squarely on              Isaac Newton's head, eyes are drawn to her. She appears buoyant, studious,                beaming, quiet, coy, and indecipherable         all at once. She is moonlight illuminating the dim nights and silent stretches of time. Unlike the coffee line, all stands still.          Refills are topped off the coffee cups. Thoughts are written on somewhat stained pages, undeniably drenched i...

She was happiest without me - her somber silhouette somehow served to cement that I see only what I was allowed to. And all I was allowed to, were expressions of "almost"                                   and "maybe".           My thoughts dwell and at some moments, swell at the idea that there may still be affection in the eaves.                         But I deceive myself, as it is through markedly unsaid conversation that bring to light the truth that haunts my nights: it was never real. And it never will be. She is, after all, happiest without me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lots of book-ends sort of poems lately. I think. Not sure. I'll get back to you on that. Cheers!

Our eyes met. And in that instant, the fear that something was lost felt like a cold sweat exacerbated by the chill wind of a particularly cloudy day. I could feel my heart sinking like a ten ton brick. As she continued to where he was sitting, I felt for an instant that all my efforts were for nothing.                  I'm back at square one. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Somewhat old poem. Take a guess when this was made, for those of you who are familiar with me and my going-ons~ Cheers!

I thought I was invincible, that I can love any girl I choose and not feel the consequences       or groan from the bruises of having my heart beaten and broken right along every heart I take and leave for granted. I thought I could save      every girl I gave my heart to - that my presence in their lives is the key to bliss              and limitless opportunity. I thought romance didn't need much in the way of investment - pay a couple emotional moments her way every once in awhile, and everyone would reap the benefits. Well, here I am. Here I am, broke and broken. Here I am, tears left flowing until I'm dry and cracked and left outside every door    I can find, just to ask for my heart to be fixed right back to how it used to be. Here I am, asking forgiveness for every slam of the sledgehammer to your once-guarded, now shattered heart. I thought falling in love   ...