Poetry in Mourning

I’m still chasing the dream of the unattainable,
The white unicorn is still prowling around my head
I still have poetry in mourning
I still have tears down my throat.
I have so many leftovers… I don’t know what I have and what I don’t.

I still want things that slipper through my fingers,
I still have desires that vaporize through my thoughts
I still have you in my memory, wanting to have you… but watching you go.
I still have that feeling of the unkissed kiss that we imagined,
I still have that sense of levitation on my chest craving to be hold,
I can still taste that mix of sin and enjoyment
It’s almost a wish that among the shadows got lost.

It’s the desire surrounding my toenails,
It’s the hard-headed sketch I was made of
It’s a chain, it’s a dime, it’s a necklace,
It’s a dream, so bewitching; it’s passion it’s lust.

You are part of the poetry in me,
From this letters I’m writing, till the sigh I take to stop.
From the a to the z of this poem,
You are the lover, the villain, the ghost.

It’s just the fear of risking what life has created for me
It’s choosing a colour that doesn’t match with the frame
Is wanting to overcome distance
Of what never happened and what could have been.