sonnet 51
"i'll spend valentine's day seeking out truth...
that my present state's not a future me...
searching for evidence, some kind of proof...
me loving a woman's my destiny...
with her loving me equally as much...
is a treasure i'm desperate to find...
we're a love more than a passionate touch;
a love more than thoughts of her on my mind...
it's more than what we feel deep in our heart...
more than what we say, or our actions show...
sure our love began when we both did start...
to look at ourselves and already know...
loving is knowing; i strongly contend...
and knowing's what means that love will transcend..."
sonnet 52
“i think the word of the day is “closure”…
quandary; why my relationships end?
when love’s so hot, i burned from exposure;
what the hell happened to thinking i’d spend;
the rest of my life with one that consumed,
especially when she'd echoed my thoughts?
yet i’d be the asshole if i assumed,
that the words she’d said, were words she’d said lots…
of times; to lots of men she’d left smitten;
never real feelings, just imitating...
sentiment offered: verbal or written…
hedging her actions; equivocating…
thus, “closure” seems a concept that shrewdly…
fucks me after love’s already screwed me…”
sonnet 53
“in writing about the future i want…
it’s been suggested i forget the past…
starting with my being more nonchalant…
towards relationships that didn’t last…
‘cause a “fuck her” written smacks of despair,
or pain, or sorrow; words that say i hurt…
and that i'm not mature enough to care…
not to hurt her back in penned thoughts overt…
the opinion of letting lovers go,
seems the best way for me to love better…
when i write the next, and my feelings show;
new passions should inspire the letter…
if a present "me" wants a future "you",
i guess that means to bid the past “adieu”…”
sonnet 54
“line: ‘even though i tried i can’t let go’;
the truth is i don’t even attempt it…
love’s gone away but i already know,
she’ll return to me because i dreamt it…
thus, i can’t allow myself the thoughts of…
everything said and done’s strictly the past…
when all that occurred made us fall in love…
i figure us feeling that way should last…
we share something that defines perfection…
two people coupled by a tie that binds…
to let go is to lose a connection;
a bond formed from similar hearts and minds…
i can’t let go; love simply won’t allow,
me to cede these feelings i’m feeling now…”
sonnet 55
“i’m digging in, i have tunnel vision…
so focused; peripherals stay blurry…
ideas complicated like cold fission;
cold fusion; fuck it, ‘bout it, don’t worry…
just know i’m a cadaver on my grind…
they’ll take this pencil from my cold, dead hand…
quixotic thoughts from a quixotic mind…
the power to transcribe them i command…
“everyday i’m hustling”, that's from rick ross…
glossed a “word hustler”; so i’ll use the line…
not springsteen or danza; who’s the real “boss”?
a voice of the people sounds just like mine…
write ’til i die and in the time between;
get famous faces on paper that’s green…”
sonnet 56
“she smiled a lot for a life pretended;
a mask meant to keep those who cared at bay…
‘cause her broken heart couldn’t be mended,
with anything that they could do or say…
so she kept up a happy face; showing…
a beautiful smile she displayed for all…
and everyone smiled back; never knowing…
her true feelings hidden behind the wall…
a liar; as her visage did deceive…
it never let on to a secret pain…
and the words she spoke, we all did believe..
unaware of the emotional stain,
one who smiled at her had left on her heart;
forced her to turn acting into an art…”
sonnet 57
“she once said we’re skeptics because we think,
rather than live the lives we’re destined for…
she’s right; we share more than a common link;
we share thinkers’ dna at our core…
unhappy; we play things out in the head…
then let fear determine which path to take…
with usually doing nothing instead,
of something that risks another heartbreak…
love or life, we keep inside of one mind…
despite knowing that reality's better;
or should be, with thoughts desperate to find…
an escape from a brain that does fetter…
she said “think about good things”, and i try;
to reveal a future of she and i…”
sonnet 58
“i'll give some advice to a future son…
from having lived, a bit of knowledge gained…
“just make sure you don't allow anyone…
to keep the best parts of yourself contained…
or take away from the things that you do”
“oh yeah, anything that makes you stand out…
will cause someone to be jealous of you…
but don't let them decide what you're about”
he'll know what ‘to thine own self be true’ means…
i'll impress upon him that hamlet line…
“want to be the man that makes up your genes…
and the ones you possess are mostly mine”
my most important words, maybe, will be…
“be yourself; a better version of me””
sonnet 59
“i'll die; a note next to me expressing…
heartfelt sentiment in my last thought penned…
a written letter, with words confessing,
i'd lived the life of a sinner who sinned…
as proof that i'd realized i'd live no more,
yet known i'd merely loved through lovely text;
devoting beautiful words conceived for…
one deserving woman, and then the next…
then another yearned to know how i felt…
she'd read my heart with some satisfaction…
having cried out words i'd scribed as she knelt;
she still let writing be my sole action…
no, never truly found love off the page;
lived scared, to die alone; a coward's wage…”
sonnet 60
“when i’ve time to think, i often wonder…
how just a few months became a lifetime?
can’t seem to grasp what the over/under…
of days for us should’ve been; she and i’m…
something different i don’t understand…
the truth is we’ve been more since we first met;
more since the first time that i clutched her hand…
knew then our bond’d be as strong as one’d get…
but those aren’t just words to say; that i “knew”,
or that i continue to know it now…
when we talk, we do what we always do:
renew a relationship that somehow,
some way, for better or worse, proves to be…
the most intimate connection for me…”
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