amazgladier

[amazgladier]

I think I have become

Much too accustomed

To heartbreak.

That I have begun

To pick up dirt,

Unearth what's been buried,

Dig a hole for myself

Until my hands are dirty,

My skin is scathed,

And I am deep enough

To slowly suffocate.

But not die.

No.

Not truly.

Only a little.

Only enough

To feel the sting

That awakens the senses,

To make it hard to breathe

As if in excitement,

To bleed a few drops

That reminds of warmth,

To fear death

In order to remember

That I still am

Very much so

Alive

And capable

Of feeling.

-ag

[amazgladier]

If I asked

If I begged

For a piece

For a sliver

Of your heart

Of your time

Would it be too much

Would I be too much

-ag

[amazgladier]

I can write you a hundred poems

That you will never read

Letters bled on paper

Forming phrases of longing

That you will never share

I have written you a hundred poems

That I will never let you read

Let the ink run dry

And the paper wither

Along with my hopes in it

-ag

[amazgladier]

Fate seems like a joke.

For why should the universe, in its vastness,

Care to pull its strings?

But once in a while,

Its existence doesn't seem so improbable—

Let alone laughable.

Among the millions of souls,

The whimsy of time, the immensity of space,

Some things can be deemed ineffable.

Stardust come together,

Life is breathed in; another two are made thereafter.

Two more journeys begin.

And among the millions of souls,

The whimsy of time, and the immensity of space,

Their paths align and remain.

What more could that be, except,

The threads of fate that spin?

-ag

[amazgladier]

There is a strange comfort

In witnessing private moments

A certain degree of closeness

A picture of trust

A sign of love

When vulnerability is shown

Served on a platter

It is as if by doing so,

One is saying:

See me

Know me

And if after doing so,

you would still,

Love me.

-ag

[amazgladier]

On long rides, I sometimes think,

"The end of the world may be around the corner.

Every leaf could turn to ash,

Lungs could be filled with smoke,

Everything that is could be what once was."

It is a sobering thought, to think of demise

The fragility of life, the hurry of every second.

"I have lived a wonderful life,"

I would say at the last moment.

And with those words would be thoughts of you,

Carried by a love that never once faltered.

There will be fear, I know, but not for myself.

Fear that you might be afraid.

There will also be longing

For all the conversations we would never have,

More time I wish we could've spent,

How I'd wish once more to hold your hand

But most of all, there will be gratitude—

That before the clock ran out,

I had this destiny to share.

And when the world crumbles,

Taking every bit with it,

I will say as everything ends,

"I have a lived a wonder life," and mean it

"Because I have lived it with you."

-ag

[amazgladier]

I have felt most loved in the littlest of ways,

In the smallest of gestures.

A light hand on my shoulder to lead me through the crowd,

A cup of coffee made without having to ask,

A band-aid bought for a small wound,

A stern reminder when I'm being self-righteously proud,

A jar opened when my hands have tired,

A slice of cake that I might like,

A small choice with my preference in mind,

A comfortable silence when I seem tired.

I used to think love was true when it was loud,

But that is not always the case.

Sometimes love is simply a gentle presence,

Showed to you in the littlest of ways.

-ag