I want to tell you guys about my book. Yes. I've written a book. 'All In Love Is Fair' is my book. My baby. A collection of poems I've written over the past two years that tells a raw and honest story of the trials and triumphs of love. 45+ pieces, exploring different styles (haikus, tankas, prose...) broken up in 3 sections.
Sooo I'm close to getting this project published. Halfway there! I've started this campaign to bring me get closer to (or reach) being self published.
Sneak peek (bonus piece and a piece from the "Amor Desinit" section of the book).
Insomnia
I used to have these dreams.
The type that paints the picture of bliss with the most glorious colors.
The bluest blues.
The reddest reds.
Pinks, greens and yellows of all shades.
Dancing with the vivid colors that swirled around. conceited.
Splashes of gold highlighting the picturesque ideal of me and him.
I used to have these dreams.
The type I welcomed.
Feelings overcome me.
Maybe joy.
Maybe happiness.
I've certainly never felt anything quite like it.
I danced anyway.
Me and him always a continuing story of never ending glorious colors.
Me and him, in sync.
I used to have these dreams.
The type that never unmasked him.
Never knew who he was supposed to be...
... until I met you.
I know this feeling.
You move me with the same ease.
Separated by circumstances, I can only see you in my dreams.
Those glorious colors that rhythmically moved with us to the tune of our song.
Those bluest blues, reddest reds, shades of pinks, greens and yellows,
that feeling that overcomes my spirit...
It saddens me.
Many look forward to dreams, the type that whimsically capture the essence of what they share with another.
Not I.
Dreaming of me and you, us, is only a reminder that you are there...
And I am here.
I miss you.
Just a girl.
Expressing that if you guarantee me your attention,
I, in return, could be everything you needed.
Selfish in it's approach.
Real in it's essence.
I'm dependent upon it.
As necessary as the air I breathe,
Attention brings life to my womanhood.
A reassurance of being desired by the one I desire.
But
You are a man.
A man can't be handled or molded
to suit me.
Did I expect too much?
A man can not be convinced of something everlasting deriving from something so vain.
So
I suppress my womanhood
And soon learn to accept any form of attention even if it falls short.
No longer making the effort.
Am I asking for too much?
You are a man.
And I?
I am needy.
Check Out my campaign and help me get 'All In Love Is Fair' published!!!!!
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