It’s there

Detect my hidden love for you,
look for it, dare to find,
it is not hidden all that well,
just peek over my fence,
kill all the dragons,
call me by my name.
Open me. Just crack my shell.

Skin be between our flesh,
words come between our thinking.
I cry through layers of grief
and my sound is smothered by
what culture asks of me.

Find me through layers,
dig deeper and search well
in mazes, and in mist
and everywhere,
and like you do,
I shall. I shall,
and find, as it is there.

It was not love that died

Had we known love before
then I would grieve now
for its loss.
Had there been openings
in doors shut,
in conversations,
then there would have been sadness.

Had we known love before
to share, without grieving
other loves,
we would have made it
passed the boundries
of mere acquaintances
and passed the treshold
of uneasy sex.

Though there is sadness
because there seems nothing here
in this rained over grave
but a hollow coffin.
And grief allows itself to barge in any time
anyway.

ps this poem was inspired by a poem I read a while ago but I don’t remember it altogether and I also forgot who wrote it lol. I just remembered bits and pieces.