Poems from a Broken Writer's Block

Friendship
Mingling of souls,

as I realize this is what I was created for.

An understanding of commonality,

a basis for trust,

for love.

When the catharsis comes,

no judgement

just acceptance as tears fall down a face.

As the testimony is formed,

it binds us together,

it makes us one.

Who we were and who we have become,

weaving us together as a flawless bride.

Laughter,

a diaphragm contracts,

a joyful kind of pain,

the hilarity of nothing,

yet the alleviation of something.

A felicity that takes all the doubts away.

Together we are.

These meaningless words,

fail to define a friendship,

flounder under the meaning,

waste away under the love.

Little had they known,

this friendship provided a balm,

a healing,

for a wounded heart.

When a satisfied slumber falls over our eyes,

and silence is whispered in our ears,

we feel what it means to be called a friend.

The weight of such a calling,

is light, 

yet heavy.

The capacity of such a love,

is unrelenting.

Yet all just an obscure mirror reflection,

of Love himself.

A hazy image of the godly friendship

of the Trinity.

Time
Time is a thief.

Stealing away these precious moments,

eroding away at my sacred memories.

It does not stop for the eyes that need 

just one more smile to encapsulate a broken heart

with joy.

It tears through space,

every dreadfully long second,

forcing you to whisper,

"how long?" 

into the expanse.

Yet the mind is strong,

there is this sanctuary that it has locked those memories into.

Granting access only to the beholder herself,

not to time,

or the ocean waves that torment the shores of her heart.

Every so often,

she's lost the key. 

She cannot find where she kept it,

she's convinced time has stolen it away.

She cries because she cannot remember the face,

her heart refuses to search.

The key though,

is her heart.

She understands that she is but a blink away from 

opening her sanctuary,

her safe haven,

her heart.

To behold these memories,

that bring pain and felicity,

joy and sorrow,

but most importantly love.

So open your heart,

that is a key and

sanctuary itself,

and breathe

because time has not stolen the memories,

it has stolen only itself.