Published on

gimme everything,
everything i want
plus everything i think i want
and it still won't be enough
because "everything" isn't you
and it never will be
because, you
there is only one

irreplaceable, indefinable
incomparable
unfathomable, your mystery
your artistry

the art of simply being you.

infuriatingly impenetrable,
as in strong willed and sensitive,
just the same

belligerent and beautiful
blind and so alive
in all you see and sense,
once and once more, time again

so gimme everything,
anything, to preoccupy myself
distract myself from your absence,
the nagging slow drip ache,
the pain

of simply not being able
to be around you

sit near you
talk to you
relate to you,
not quite relate to you

differences, fascinating
but given the chance to
I've learned a lot,
explored your inner landscape,
with love

the parts you've allowed me,
shared with me,
somewhat, trusting
then somewhat not

a duality, a complexity
that reflects the truth
that lives, breathes inside me

an inner war, a battle,
a struggle

to be human here
surrounded by the suffocating
strangle hold
"same old, same old"

rules applied,
"looks like we've died"
just a little bit more,
than we wish to want to
recognize

so gimme everything...

joe piscopo,
in his soul shivering,
heart throb, knee quivering prime

plenty of money
to never again have to worry

a decent job, dare it have
lasting purpose and a good future,
benefits, pay, to match

a string of nights
with consistent, deep sleep

the removal inside,
binge like hunger,
processed, garbage food to eat

gimme tacos 'til eternity
because they remind me of you

the heaven i once felt
eating them with, and while
talking, soul sharing with you

i knew it then,
as i feel it, same, now

knew i was blessed,
simultaneously touched

the tiniest things,
the biggest, light brings

seemingly throwaway moments
none were disposable
because they were with you

lastly, gimme the courage
to share this shine, this shit
with you
and not care, not worry
that you'll never get, embrace
understand me

i am simply speaking
the truth

gimme that, gimme everything
because i know

no one and nothing
is the "everything"

i felt, i found
i kind of died a little bit
in the name of heaven,
hand bit by hell

just by standing there
in the sunshine

by your side.

the gods know how i miss that,
how i miss you

nothing more, nothing less

than it meant the universe,
the world

as in everything
to know, experience, adore
embrace, love you

in the way i can, in the way i do

so all i want is "everything",
but differently now
'cuz you changed me,
destroyed, broke and saved me

for seeing
a different kind of everything
worth fighting, struggling for

that's the treasure chest in you,
that's what true

I'd give up everything
just to have you back,
have you around

but i still wouldn't mind
joe piscopo, in or out of his prime,
beautiful, "off the beaten path"
brilliant man

"different and everything"...

just like you.


bowen hart roselli
4 december 2020
ringwald love
Published on


welcome to the real america
where if it's not happening to you,
it's doesn't really matter
if it's happening to someone else

if you aren't fucking them,
aren't family, aren't friends
then it's truly every selfish
for themselves

beyond race, beyond gender
beyond every fucking pronoun
you can toss and puree in
"the god just kill me quicker" blender

selfish reigns as the soul becomes
something to devour,
destroy as we grow
ever increasingly numb

technology hookers
and pimps, just the same
dead-eyed kids,
born with a slab of social media
in their face

all "me, me, me"
not you, as in before,
as in placed, the qualities
inner character and grace

things like heart,
they don't pay the bills
and they sure don't get
those bank accounts filled

to say nothing of "followers",
attention beggars and borrowers
good luck if your stomach
finds you bleeding the bullshit
in the stress, strain of "the sorrower"

looking around, in horrid disbelief
says charlie brown, before
self strangulation, "good grief"

as lucy now,
does a lot more, for five cents
has re-assignment surgery to pay
along with an ever increasing rent

bitch can't get by,
with just being a girl
that's not enough
to hoard the spotlight, this world..

even if no one cares,
really notices
welcome to only being
as good, of value as your notices

notice of eviction,
notice of conviction,
notice of omission,
notice of suspicion...

don't trust those weirdo's
who care, when not required
or anyone doing anything
beyond themselves,
beyond self gain or ego-maniacal
need, hole feed, to be admired

in all the wrong ways,
as in, for all the wrong things
a buffet of sloth
and "scarf down", see?
"onto the next"
and what they can bring..

to the party, "get it starting"
"smile big and bright" for the praise
don't be pensive, thoughtful, don't
that will get you thrown away,
not raised

up, as in successful
"deep" is not desired, it's stressful
on the body, and taxing, on the mind
it does not pay
to be "one of a kind"

the kind, of what?
you may, won't ask?

the kind that is alive
not for "the game", the mask
the kind as seen,
"not up to the task"
the kind for whom
the crowds do not bask

in the shadows, in the streets
head held down
or hiding under pillows and sheets

just wanting to get the hell
out of this place

the real america now,
land of the selfish,
greed and gain imbibed,
inhuman race

an artless artifice,
in the name of
"no one else exists, but me"

a disgrace.

(thank god, yes, for the nurses, the healthcare workers, the caregivers, the caretakers, the few true friends,
and the "last life lovers" that do, yes, shine and still exist here, outnumbered, in this day and age, and time)


bowen hart roselli
4 december 2020
ringwald love
Published on


never good enough,
I'm aware of it
difference is now,
i am not scared of it

if its not the body,
it's the mind
or I'm too intense
or too damn kind

not successful enough,
i know it
and all my "fucked up",
i've a tendency to show it

whether it's "the girl" in my voice
or another stupid, shitty life choice
another "see the good in",
i should not have entertained
or my propensity, procrastinate
all the failures, my life,
I'm the first to acknowledge,
take full responsibility, blame

cuz this, the path i sold my soul
the path of love, as in live, give, old
this is not the world
they said it was
blood stains, dried, on white,
shot doves

the ones' released at weddings
and formals
for some of us here,
there is no such thing
as remotely even close to "normal"

weird shit follows
and finds, from the start
all the stories, insane
i could, true, so impart

instilled, real young,
this place is quite awful
"people ruin everything"
if only the evils of selfishness
and cruelty, deemed unlawful

but that's what makes
the world go 'round
one man's ocean
is another one's drown

one girl's "get"
is another wounded woman's
"can't forget"
as every possibility, proposed
"it could be yours",
with the right perspective imposed

"lemons from lemonade"
and "pennies earned as pennies saved"
what about the teaching,
"to be loved, first be laid"
yeah, that one never worked,
at least for me, the beds, broken
i made...

after the screw, after the fuck
i was actually good at that
but sucking, rubbing on cock
it never brought me much luck

so i went deeper, in the dirt,
in the dark
"psycho sexuality", the place
preferred, my rear end, parked

only took me further, self destruction
split my psyche apart, an induction
to a gang, society sociopathic
not the best place
for one innately empathic

but get off i did,
til it wired me wrong
as in was already "off"
to begin with, lifelong

so ruin me once
and destroy me then, twice
if i only had a dime
for every time I've been told
"you're so sweet, you're too nice"..

please.
kill me, right there
upon those words
they are code for
"I'm sorry, but you are boring
because you love, like a girl"..

and not one crazy enough
in "the bad"
for the boys that like that,
see me react with anger,
flip out, lash back

see...i save that shit,
mostly for myself
the world offers enough of it
and i refuse to be, act
like the mostly "everyone else"

see,i am my own worst enemy,
you see
and to be loved, like i can
that will, it seems,
no, not ever be me

but fuck it,
so i didn't do the best that i could
cultivate a worthiness,
a successful self
to manifest the right man,
of heart good

or "heart something"
at least, that'd be more than the most
i spread, so "super" 'n soulful for
under the sheets

to be loved,
the cycle spins high,
stops, repeats

one day, in my "outta here"
this war with myself,
where "the hurt" led me, heaven
with some, at least, found it

and I'll smile, once the coming
of my battle here

complete.

(no more worry, insecurity, instability
this specter of emotion,
misplaced energy, called me..)

I'll be freed.

bowen hart roselli
26 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on

is it "crazy",
or just an awareness,
a fourth dimensional layer, invisible,
like an extra sensory perception?

i "just knew" this world,
we humans occupy
was a pretty awful place
since arriving...
and it's the people who make it that way
not nature, not trees, not animals, not their fault
as the saying goes "people ruin everything"...

and yet there was love
and intricate trees, dog, cats, horses
other, although rare,
magical beings,
filled with a light,
an innate sensitivity
that called to, spoke of
almost otherworldly things

didn't realize others didn't see
the world like me
(you mean everyone doesn't live
for, to give love?)
in the greater, grander scheme
of things

didn't realize
all the time spent within
meant, i may be somewhat a success
at being a caring, if cut up, soul
(although overly caring, time again,
I'm told)
but that I'd be an utter failure
at the game, real life
success, it seems, comes easier
to most, not overly preoccupied
with being so god damned
"sweet" and nice

to say nothing of the war inside
the darkness in me,
a split down the center
vacillating between them,
light/dark, I've no choice
but to fight

for every scrap of joy and hope
to stave off the scar blind
tendency , "grab rope"
to hang myself,  of the overthinking,
overly intense, overly thoughtful emotional scope

i just don't get it,
the why i am me
sick of it, bones and skin
that trap me here
always seeking a new way
to become someone else,
begin again

"not in the cards"
smiled the sea of ever watching
circling sharks

but blessed, i had found, some true friends
those fellow "prone to the throne
of feeling fractured, at wits end"

of simply trying,
amongst the perpetual denying,
surrounded by a swarm of bees

brings the simply aspiring
to be a better man, woman, here
to their exhausted,

war worn knees.

(off the mark, off the map
if you find yourself here, a heart
who places immeasurable value
in all the littlest things
and the live to hope just to love
the state of tiny magic, live to
bring a smile, and a sense you, yes,
were heard, felt, seen)...

and hand you the stars
that you refuse to see

you handed to me.

the mystery of what
"undeserving", does it mean?

who put that in you?
like a knife in the fight just to believe your own dreams

therein lies the embankment
created to separate you

from me.

and me, from you, because i get it, i do
somehow your troubles, i relate to them, struggle seen

(in our minds we create, cultivate
secrets and worlds, made of monsters
and ghosts, the past, the present,
so many things, to deny ourselves
the beautiful we might experience,
the song of a love pure, innocent, it sings)

you are heaven on fire.

and all i had hoped for
but never knew,
until the day came
that found me alive, awake inside these eyes
in multi-captivated ways
for you, this undying admire.

(fellow fragile human, how you hide it well
your own multispectral story to tell)


bowen hart roselli
26 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on
 

I'm just a body
dragging around
the insides of me
that thing called a soul
nobody wants,
and even fewer can see

and even worse,
this heart of intensity
how it causes most
to run away, faster, faster
they apologize sometimes
offerings of "sorry", or not,
as they flee

my fault.
I'll own it
the heart is to hide
nothing to share so much of,
outgrown it..

most, as they evolve
only an idiot thinks it, still
what "real life" revolves
romance begins and ends
at the pants
unzipped, unearthed
ride it, hard, home
like it's your last chance

to connect, brief, the moment
everything you are and aren't
you gotta live with, you gotta own it

every thought i think
every poison i drink
every word i speak
every ray of light/dark i leak

every choice i make
every chance, out of fear, i don't take
every dream i drown
every kingdom, in my mind, i crown

as the only way
that anything can be
all these limitations, are me

every hope, face, i pin my heart on
when the message has always been
it's all and just about the hard on

and damn, i was once,
so exceptional at that
hit every home run
when given the chance
up at bat

wasn't a dirty deed i wouldn't do
you know what they say
about lonely kids,
"born to screw"

i didn't say it
and i didn't make the rules
i just never learned em right,
one of those kind of perpetual fools

i am, i was
and I'll take the blame
for every misstep, misplayed game
i didn't quite get
that's all this is
I'm like that remake, wizard of oz,
"the wiz"

complete and total shit,
but loved
by some strange few,
and that's enough

to get me just enough
thought and mention
enough to sustain, beyond myself
a shred of longevity, "still alive"
beyond lack of accolades,
"good intentions"

they say it's called human,
the need for some kind of love
and attention

but human
was never good enough, for me
couldn't live with myself
let alone, all the horrid garbage
I've seen

the things we do
to ourselves and others
this ain't no place
for kind hearts, lovers

who see and care, beyond themselves
just hand them
a one way ticket to hell
cuz that's what it is
and that's how it feels
so says the bleed that the need
never heals

to give more, listen more
"be there" more,
just a "love more" whore

that's all i am
and all i became
as again and again
the intensity of my out pouring
heart and emotions are to blame

no victim, no whining
shit, i don't even ask,
"take me dining"
out, that's not what any of this
was about

it was "i loved you"
never wanted you to feel, be left,
any doubt...

except you didn't need
or really want it, from me

most don't, and it's ok
we can later, fight over
who gets to lay claim,
the knife to plunge in
to kill off the underneath, my un-pretty skin
covering up my the organs,
responsible the propensity
for never ending levels of love, thought drown
and their unwanted
gushing bleed of

intensity.


bowen hart roselli
29 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on
 
 
when your well has run completely dry
and you find yourself
licking the last drops of water off the roughshod sides 
sinking further
settling into the reality
this is just you,
this is just your life...

when everyone else
is "getting lucky", getting laid
as you sit thinking of others
who aren't thinking of you
brutal realities bring you to levels
of a devastate a.k.a. 
"plain hard fact, even harsher, heart truth"

or
stop for no one
who's not stopping for you
I've a tendency to be broken by others, "fair game"
to be cut deep inside,
just slap me so labeled,
"a sickness, sensitivity"
easily scarred, even easier, slain

I'd kill
for someone to see, love me
deep to deeper, as i do them
but it's here we arrive
at my own doing, downfall,
my "lost in love" sin

i get swept away
in the magic, mesmerize
of a rare "another"
the kind you'd call unlike any other
lose myself, thoroughly
mean well, but I'm just
the love, without the lover

because I'm lead by,
follow my heart
to the heights of heaven,
depths of hell
that's what you do when you really care
unlike all the frauds, who fake the words
have no concept, the real gift of love's swell
a sweet devotion divine, i've lived enough without
to know and cherish, treasure it well

but misunderstood, like an alien, a fool
unable to play by the self protective playbook, the rules
perfected, since preschool
or really, it seems, from the start
this valentine, written in the sky,
prayers of "please be mine"
tragedy-lovelorn work of art

never worked out,
the gods, too busy
you can pray all ya want
but once the soda, popped
one can't stop the bubbles
from fizzing

and what happens after that
they just fade, fall flat
yeah i know,
have had enough of that
this, my life, not where
"the happening's at"

it's at someone else's party,
on someone else's prick
it's inside, someone else's wet pussy
off someone else's lips,
tongues, for the tasting
ripe for deep kissing, taste, lick

someone else hearing the words
of love, romance, adoration
someone else getting the gift
of "sweet fuck, yes" soul sensual sensations

i want a new life,
manifest a new me
this one sucks,
I've seen, been, the bottom of the well
it's time to scratch and claw my way free

'cuz trust me,
it ain't worth it,
the endless stories
of heartbreak to tell

would just like one chance
for a little heaven before i go
exhausted, inner rage
that somehow I'm the kid
in "skid", before row

the kind in the heart,
yeah i know, it's my fault
but you gotta own up to your shit
before you can finally change it
put it to rest, as in a "fuck you"
stop, halt

change is lonely
cuz it's all inside you
as in me, cuz all i truly wanted
was for another to fall for me too

they couldn't, wouldn't, didn't
so it's really "fuck me" lastly, fist me first,
hope i wet their whistle just a bit,
possibly even quenched their thirst

and for this shitty karma
called me, my heart
my way of being, perceiving
let me find my way out, a new start

please, the fuck out of god
let me learn, let me change
so what, if yeah, one could say
i'm a bit delicately, divinely deranged.

let me start over, wiser
something, but nothing, left, the old me, to prove

call this fucked up life,
if not this fucked up mind,

a slate wiped clean
and even more than that
absolutely and thoroughly,
finally, for the love of,
and in the name of truth

to live, a changed man,
in the incredible, indelible etch inside
so inspired, so alive, in the reflection that is
the inspiration known in me, as you.

the one who called me to something higher
something beyond all this garbage inside
that blocks out the sun and sullies the innocence
i found in the confusing, yet life altering, presence of you,
my admired.

bowen hart roselli
29 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on


the hearts that hide,
the hearts that have died
the ones that strangely beat,
out of time...

a heart for him, a heart for her
all the things that aren't now
but yes, they once were

the ghosts that haunt,
inside our heads
the secrets that we keep, un-bled
the things we say, but don't
just the same
the beasts within, we cannot tame

so die, we do
in fits and spurts
the vulnerability, hope slain
strained, our self worth

confidence, assurance
found, then gone
we beat ourselves mercilessly
for all that we got, went wrong...

along the way, along the path
chosen for ourselves?,
is it really that simple,
we reap the shame of our
"should've known" wrath

better or beforehand,
as if we are machines
reduced to the lowest
of demonstrative means

"so...I'm the fag"
and she's the tagged,
as in "teamed",
if you know what i mean

and he's "the straight",
so that's gotta be exact, like an arrow"..

who can you trust
as your walls close in, tightly narrow

seems we gotta live, breathe
by the rules, roles defined
as they grow ever more labeled,
welcome to the wonderland
death of soul, lose your mind...

amongst all the chatter
and all the garbage
that does not matter
everything, at our fingertips, easy..
too bad all the gluttony
leaves little here of lasting,
love, meaning...

that place inside,
the divine hold, the heart
seems so many moments wasted
seen "the end", from the start..

skipping through the center,
who has time for that?
stillness seen as a languorous loser,
yeah, "the winners",
time filled, "busy busy" at bat

swinging, hitting it, outta the park
bragging rights, all light, all shine,
no shadows, dare be illuminated, dark

"look what I'm called,
worship my title"
no time for leaving the clutch
fixed on idle

but you,
the one thing
I'd stop everything and all
for and with,
so delicately mesmerizing, your call

of the wild,
and of "the wolf"
i know the difference
of a fraudulent frame, mistook

as the one, to behold,
painted gold
but underneath, nothing there
soul, a void, called "already sold"

that's not you,
you remarkable being
as such, the awakening
to a divine light, sight, seeing

all the things i couldn't,
my blind
your nuance, your nectar
it's soaked, "one of a kind"

the mystery of you,
utter magic to me
inspires endless flights of "found"
within the realm of
the unknown, aroused

seen.

you, for what you bleed, you are
the mirror to that universe
you love, filled with stars

none of them perfect,
matter fractured, rough, glow
and shine, they still do
filled with so much,
no "just any other" can know

no choice, but to leave behind
all i thought i was,
seek the strength, awakened,
to grow

no choice but to love you
for the soul, striking, like sacred, you are

i thought i was searching
lost, in a dream,
king of hearts
until i met you,

found before me,
right there standing

the king of the stars.


bowen hart roselli
22 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on


every avenue explored
every leaf, overturned
the urge, the instinct
find me a patch of dirt
under the safety, sanctuary
towering trees
and break my will,
to these bruised bones
thoroughly
devoured, disintegrate
into the soil
will i finally then be visible,
once invisible?

and let me face every horrid truth
the selfishness of others
under all the smiles, "nice words"
all the words, that's just what they are
empty of action,
devoid any real lasting,
encapsulating passion

of skin and limb
to heart and mind
so few of us left here
the "put you before me",
"soulfully sensitive kind"...

and let me own every misfire
every "my fault", how I'm wired
to believe in things now fallen away
inner character means little
than less here, best to learn quickly
this "out for self only" game

and let me go then, smiling
last breath, cracked skin, lips
as i told you, i never belonged here
it was the truth as I've been shown
over thinking, over dreaming
over feeling, the meaning

the value, importance of love
tenderness, tumultuous
the divine attempt, work involved,
it's profound, yet preyed upon significance

yet i loved with all my being, my heart
i guess, "the fool" i claimed it, my part
to play here, scenarios, scenes
inside this film, haunted brain

once devoured by the earth
i will have the final freedom
to fly and flourish
wings of remembrance
my blindness,
the power of your beautiful
upon me,
some star it will shine, see
me as home, worthy of the covet
and lifelong quest, for release
within the honorable hurt,
bleed, no more "brutalize"
amongst it's "yes", want of me,

realized, then so claimed.


bowen hart roselli
11 november 2020
ringwald love 
Published on

hello fellow traveler,
felt, seemed like i knew you
seemed, felt like you knew me too
something treading on extraordinary
in that it was a connection
not typical aka shallow aka
all smiles, all chit chat,
all based in a pleasant nothingness,
hollow

seems i felt then, a safety
to be my self and give you
my absolute
sincerity, star shine, heart mined
to its depths
gave you my gold,
joyfully, happily so

so...what happened?
no idea
maybe...
you, the most beautiful illusion
i never could've known
thought i was an asset to your energy
not a building block intrusion

stable foundations
a flow, a force, unforced, flowing, natural
thereby wonderful,
therefore a kid at christmas
how my senses remember you
vividly
just being there, with
around, unexpectedly

enlightened...

now
i simply don't know
where it all went
suspended animation
it shows

that I'm not that important
like you, so important to me
things just are,
nothing bad, nothing wrong
it's up to you,
bring your plate to the party

i adore you, regardless
but I'm torn, as to the truth,
heart of you

fellow traveler
do you at least kind of consistent
kind of like me?
still around

still here like the sun

it rises, it falls
it hides behind clouds
then it bursts, beams of heaven

you could get away with murder
and on the witness stand
I'd lie for you

cuz that's what real friends,
rare, do
amongst a brotherhood
of fellow human travelers

in a world of posing people,
found...

in suspended animation
a propensity to care
what you go through,
what you feel

maybe not equal
between us

but the truth remains,
regardless, the human
disposition to drown

in ourselves, me, a stranger
but the glory, the gift,
it became a you, a me,
an us, i felt bloom,

loved it's spell.

lived it well.

gave it my all.

no sadness,
then remains
in the suspended animation
of the "how could i not?"
for you,

fall.

in a way
you can call it
whatever you'd like
or don't call it anything
it's a distinct possibility
you may, may not
or...just...might...

call me one day
remembered, remarked
as your friend

in a way known, actualized
only to us...

mutual reciprocity
mutually integrated

trust.

the beautiful things, they last
beyond the questions of mind,
the chaos of concern,

forward thrust....

and heart-breakers
have their reasons,
i guess.

just as heart makers
feel such love, unwaveringly
undyingly

no matter what,

i confess.


bowen hart roselli
20 november 2020
ringwald love
Published on


wired wrong,
gotta be strong
most don't care,
beyond the surface,
aware....

"put you first",
here, it is rare
land of show and tell,
not share

as in mutual,
energy exchange
narcissistic, now normalized
and "sensitive sanity", deranged

it's excuse and blame
and game after game
invited all, the party
but nobody came...

because it was, the kind,
based in soul
as in honest conversation,
no costumes, no roles

too late, the "wake up"
like the model, photographed
without any make-up
funny, our vision and blindness,
the same
a "child of the wild",
that could never be tamed...

to realize, to learn
how success is obtained
"mask on, sealed tight"
with a smile, ever ready
everything here, a stage,
for the fright...

the one called the fight,
oh, they love competition
better, if beautiful
you are, by definition...

"camera ready",
just hold it real steady
take it, fake it
angled and mangled
the meaningful magic,
keys to kingdoms, so dangled...

cuz you're no one,
'til someone
decides that you are
then suddenly
look!, you're a god damn star!

made of paper or tinsel
or plastic, who cares
just as long as the machine
grinds you whole, gets you there

where, exactly?
well, "the right side",
tracks, lasting
as long as they say
you worthy and bankable
'til the sheen of your shine,
it starts to wear off,
and your light dims, burns dull

"can't have that"
but you did, once have me
every star in the sky,
it was you, i did see

until you gave,
as in gave up, on me
taught me, real heartbreak
is the fall of you,
in your "finished with" me

took me awhile,
to grasp, yes, it happened
my slow walk to death row
in your eyes, heart, so fastened

on to the next,
buckled up, belt, your seat
some sorrows, they linger
past the end credits, complete

finished films, final chapters
"applause, applause"
you smile pleased, from the rafters

of the theatre
in the mind, silent words
they speak, yes, in volumes
answer, my final worth...

to you, to her, to him,
just a whim
of your will, in the moment
a cheap rental, never worth
real investment, called "own it"

the truth, the bond,
the believe, the deceive
and we wonder why "never mind"
is so easy to stockpile,
and even easier, achieve

survival of the fittest!
at any, all cost
just don't forget the "i love you",
without effort, action, tossed off...

it helps alleviate the pain,
that is, if you feel it
careful, next time, it could be you,
someone steals it

your "vulnerable",
your "wonderful",
that thing called a mind,
inside that muscle,
meat in your skull

just like that cup,
you know,
"half empty, half full"...

the shove out the door
"felt it", more push, less the pull...

still, in the silence
dead of night, i remember
all the hard work, not really
it took for you, to dismember

the beautiful
that became, once, us
just a little thing, called love,
called trust

guess it's more easy to find,
than i thought

some wisdom, through wounds
it must be learned,
it cannot be taught

so go forth, good man, soldier
and try not to cry,
once exhaustion hits, older
you are and you feel
in a lifelong quest to retain
a heart beat and heal

just maybe, one day
he'll come back and he'll stay
but never, now,
will you be, quite the same

as you walk forward without him
he's here to stay, deep within you
loved...remarkably

beyond you...your pride, your doubt..

with him, your soul, lost and found..

either way.


bowen hart roselli
14 november 2020
ringwald love

the realm of the poetic.

prisoner of the psyche and the inescapable. heart.

all poems copyright of this author. - ringwald love.