Best Of Things

it was an all-nighter: together, we watched the sunrise.

thinking true love was blossoming, clocking the plunge: dive!

like time didn't exist anymore, and nothing mattered

except for the two of us, and as much as we trust the pattern,

it was life-changing. one of those events that meant the world wasn't worthless.

still in tune to our heartbeats, and the merging of two

towards a perfectly balanced and understanding

relationship in the works. with a smirk, she grabbed my hand and we turned.

averted attention from nature to what comes naturally.

lips parted and passion prevailed, as if it had to be

happily-ever-after. happily never actually remains;

just its memory reflected in the pain.

 

all good things come to an end, especially the best of things.

i'm cursed to stay remembering, instead of just progressing.

seems it's all for nothing. always bluffing. all for one, not always trusting.

wish i could be different, not always differ, it's not becoming.

running from commitment; committed to this decision.

if given the chance to go back, i can't admittedly hint at,

or indicate any possible change, or revision; listen,

i'm of the opinion all things happen for a reason. at least, if

we didn't make it, after all, we know now that we can't. it's called

"live and learn." take all that you can from every given turn.

it's not always a mild path. i've come to find most sidewalks slant,

and in the process, promised not to look behind, but smile back.

 

it was a long winter together: the coldest i remember

awaiting the coming spring with the promise of something better.

but, regardless of the weather, it was always warm where she was.

the closeness that we shared was rare, i swear we must have seemed stuck.

side by side like all the time; a minute without her seemed too much

to bear. the air was scarce; the need to breathe increased when we were

apart, hearts pumped for each other; another reason just

to always stay together, and never sever our need for touch.

she was truly something. someone of whom knew what trust is.

she made a believer of me when it comes to construing love. and

even though we never made it, i'll always cherish the lesson.

a part of me stays indebted to her for the pain reflected.

 

all good things come to an end, especially the best of things.

i'm cursed to remain lecturing, instead of living pleasantly.

it's all for nothing. always struggling. all for not, not always understanding.

understand me: i can't stand it, and it's not becoming

ducking the devotion. devoted to the notion

that even though these emotions are overflowing, i know it

is something that can't last forever; soon to be broken.

a self-fulfilling prophecy; not to seem too opposing.

supposedly, though, this hopelessness closing in is a motive

to mosey on through the motionless moments, onto a closeness again.

that old friend, and an end to a dial back.

just the promise of a process to look ahead to a brighter past.