"do you have to spend your life with someone for it to have meaning?"
                              
                              am i enough
                              to fill the hollow emptiness 
                              of my life
                              if i stretch my limbs
                              long enough
                              or if i scream 
                              loud enough
                              into the void
                              to pierce the darkness
                              and have meaning
                              bounce back at me
                              instead of an echo
                              of something less?
                              
                              you- you are enough,
                              you carry the meaning
                              of my life
                              in your hands
                              with more faith
                              than a prayer,
                              and you are simply
                              a life without end
                              that makes me
                              want to live
                              
                              but you are not
                              the cookie cutter shape
                              of what life should be
                              but life itself—
                              the kind that grows roots
                              deep in the ashes of death
                              and takes shape
                              with wondering, wandering vines that twist
                              and fall off the page,
                              finding my hand 
                              and pulling me into your garden
                              where you plant ideas
                              i've never seen before
                              with petals rich and soft
                              fading from red to orange to pink
                              like a sunset and sunrise
                              marking the days as they go by,
                              and i've never felt more whole
                              
                              the days never slip past me
                              when you're there to
                              slow it and fill it
                              and place your love in vases,
                              because does life have meaning
                              if you don't even let it grow?
                              if you don't let it age and wilt
                              and only have the meaning remain
                              in the scents of peonies and prose,
                              you the lilac, and i the rose,
                              and let our lives die together
                              with a sunset to mourn us
                              and a sunrise to greet us
                              into the great unknown?
                              
                              love,
                              mari
                                      
                                          
                                   
                                              YOU ARE READING
poems for you. always for you. ✓
Poetrypoems for you. poems for the ex best friends and the lost 'forevers'. poems for the memories that burn and fade before burning again. poems for the emptiness that is heavy and hollow in hearts. poems for the fleeting, fiery moments of happiness that...
 
                                               
                                                  