Best songs for this poem:

1. Idea 9 - Gibran Alcocer

2. Sailor Song - Gigi Perez

3. eyes don't lie - Isabel LaRosa

December 21st 2024

Poem Title: Set A Memory, Until Ever Love Endeavors

«No matter what I tell you, you won't run away.
Promise me.
Promise me that you'll stay.»

I feel safe being around him.

And I love,
I feel love when him and I joyously laugh and smile,
seeing ourselves in each other's eyes.

And he's here,
next to me,
to make these memories shine from a few miles.
My own self glows bright,
and I happily comply.
This feeling is neither bad nor not good enough to deny.

My desire is to wake up every day,
and have somebody embracing my affection from behind.

Husband.
Children.
Or whatever good things might come in life.
Somebody who makes me feel as free as when I am with him.
Someone who will be mine.

To be my dearest's top priority.
I desire.

To support my future family from calamities.
I aspire.

He's the opposite of what I have imagined in a life partner.
I won't be either blind,
nor a liar.

Truth.
I admire.

First impression felt hostile,
understanding little why.
He's able to trigger something in me.
It's frustrating to be around him sometimes.
Thinking of him,
not as the person I'll get old with,
but as a mere shadow of the present times,
my heart felt heavy, noticing dusk arrived.

I felt mad when tears have been shed at night.

The heart aches at this simple thought.
And,
with sad smiles,
tears have been dropped,

Fear came along.

Similar thoughts,
I have made them not go ahead,
and tried to get them lost.

They appeared in my mind,

though before I could even realize.
They were there.
To hunt these healthy soundwaves of mine.

«Am I really afraid of losing him?»

Silence arised.

«Or am I afraid of losing myself in him before the end of time?»

Tension tight.
Logic and emotions cut the air.
It was once all tied.
Sincerity comes,
and my teary eyes abide.

I sincerely do enjoy the time spent together with him.

I would appreciate it if even more quality time can be reserved to build what needs to be built in between our "you"s and "I"s.

Yes.
I desired to be his,
but expectations won't be high.

«What can go better?»,
I will always ask myself.
Remembering,
the good choices are always around the corner of everything.
Even if in far sight.

His feelings are of utmost importance.
His are the decisions.
Hence,
the choice would not only be one of mines.

Rather than be others' illusion,
this little creature,
who in my mirror lies,
grows minute by minute,
stronger than she really might realize,
she will pursue this life playfully alive.

Love comes from within.
He,
of course,
has a saying in all of this.
Because he is at the center of the topic that I have cried in.

«It's better to smile than cry.
Feelings are momentarily attributions of our egos,
but memories stay forever in our conscious and unconscious mind.»

Let's make a difference.
Positive. Cheerful. Spontaneous.

Right.

I definitely don't know everything of him,
and this might be my own illusion of how he really is.

I understand.

I'll let it be,
walking alone in the path of the realm of unconditional dreams.

I felt pain,
I must admit.
I'll try to hide it,
from him,

his friend,

and me.

I'll learn from all of these.
Mistakes,
Possibilities.
Feelings.

In hopes,
he'll promise me a place in that house of memories,
where included, there could be me,
instead of another being.

Who's him?
Him is here. And he's reading this.
Or he has been.

«What's the reason behind and beyond this poem, Angelica?»,
he might say,
or even «Him is me, isn't he?».

«Feel free to think so. You imagine.
It can be.»,
I'll say.
Though, I will deny him as Him,
until him and I will officially become a We.
Until the pain unfolds,
even if it might leave me in it.

Respect to his dearests.
Present.
Past.
Or tar.

Emotions are free,
let's enjoy them!
Here, let them speak,
instead of hiding them in a myth.
Brought them from afar.

Thank you for being yourself with me.
I see it.
Appreciate it.
Feel.

Now it's your turn to be.
Your turn to shine.
To prioritize.

Crossed my fingers at the stars,
up high in the sky.

To the moon,
priest of my tides.

«I feel admiration.
For him.
I feel understood.
By him.
I might cry again.
Again,
and again.
Will he be there to comfort my pain?»

To the sun,
guardian of his light.

«Does he feel loved,
or is it just my being perceiving that?
Please,
he's one I hold dear,
grant me his love,
instead of fear.
I'll make a promise to you,
I'll share this poem to who I believe you most want me to pursue.
I'd love to include the people who might not have a clue.»

His hands are warm.
I love to warm my hands with his.

His heart is fragile.
How can I know if he'll appreciate this deeply felt poem I've written thinking about him?

He's a strong man.
I'll follow his lead,
and walk the right lanes
to plant many other seeds.

I'll do my best.

I will do good.
No matter what.
I believe in you.
Set your goals in mind,
and you'll be able to successfully pursue actions.
Remember,
not at the cost of who you are,
but following the doors that make you move.
The ones with the purest kind of affections.

Await.

Before meeting his eyes,
«Is this pain worth it?»,
a question spawns in my mind.

Their gaze meets,
and in brief,
her walls are down.

She is in front of him.

Facing her feelings.
Admitting her belief.

Him,
finding this hidden truth of hers out.
Their connection is all she worries about.

«No matter what I told you, you didn't run away.
A promise.
A promise has been made.
Mumù,
thank you for staying.
Your presence,
I appreciate.»