Little things.

It starts slow. 

Little things you forget to do. 

Little words you forget to say. 

Some thoughts die, some memories too 

Just little things. 

It’s a human condition. 

Let’s just attribute it to genes. 

It’s like waking up to life 

And forgetting all of sleep’s dreams. 

It’s a recurrence of the new,

It’s a letting go of the past;

It’s another one of life’s lessons:

All good things seldom last. 

Little things come in that are new:

A word of love, a laugh that rhymes,

A road that hasn’t been taken,

A blurring of drawn out lines. 

People talk of love and faith and hope;

But time corrodes even diamond rings;

And they lie forgotten in the universe,

Swept off in dust as little things,

Just little things. 



I have had my heart torn open
And I have lost all my trust,
By the hands I loved –
They did what they felt they must.

Over time, my shredded heart
Knew whatever hope it stole,
In bits and pieces hope would come,
But never in an entire whole.

I have loved thrice before
And all love speaks of pain,
But I love and love and love and love,
Even though I have wished to refrain.

I never thought I’d love you –
So much so – when I thought I was done,
I never thought I’d fall in love,
When all we sought was a bit of fun.

You came into my life,
With your golden eyes and half smile,
And I thought I was wise and reserved,
But I was falling in love all of the while.

You lay in my arms and I lay in yours,
We never knew when love grew,
Plans changed and I found in myself,
Someone that I never thought I knew.

I expanded and my mind exploded,
With what I always wanted to feel:
Something so different, something so disparate,
To what I thought could live to heal

This torn, intellectual, stubborn, scared heart;
But it did, and it did it so well –
Your hands got intertwined with heaven
And you made me forget most of the hell.

I have never thought much of tomorrow;
It comes with its own steady pace;
I have here and now, and him and you,
And I have no desire to win any race.

You make me smile and you keep me warm,
In a way that eases my burden from all;
And though you stagger sometimes with it,
I am not the sort to let any love fall.

So here is to you, here is to me, here is to them
Here is to him, here is to her, here is to us,
Here is to our life today, at this moment,
And here is to all love that smiles and adjusts.


I wait for the delivered sign
To change to a read receipt;
But, knowing you are fast asleep,
It most becomes a matter of conceit:
To be upset you could turn away
And find peace in sleep so soon,
When I can’t help lie wide awake,
In the darkness of my room.

I wonder if our differences
Would be smaller than love,
If you know I’m not stronger
Than those who push and shove,
Who play games that shed blood,
With guns and ganks and strategy,
Who are young with ribs and abs,
With no depth to counter young vanity.

I wonder, if you notice all the nights
I lie awake and wonder if I’ll win,
In this round of relationships
And manage this subtle crucifix of sin.
With shards of jealousies and tempers
That have not worn out with age
And if I begin to speak of my faults
I’d need more than one soliloquy on stage.

Yet I have eyes, eyes that glisten
With past sacrifice and present emotion
And they gather all that there needs to be known
About people, love, lust and devotion.
You have my love now for better
Or for worse, for all of my remaining days
And perhaps all of the hours and years
That make up the sum of a fantastic always.

Make me know if I have yours and you
For I bitterly fail at the one thing called trust
So give me hope and make me know
If we can link our fates or perhaps if we must.
And the signs must change as is their wont
And sleep will come floating down the throat of night
As I sit and lie and live with or without you
Choosing in bursts to win or surrender the fight.