Some mornings, I stand in front of the mirror and ask myself, Am I visible?

Because if these thoughts could talk, then out comes my mystery, for the thoughts that I hold, in turn hold my history.

I met you,
and with every beat of my heart pounding in my chest,
I whispered into your ears.

From the racing thoughts in my head
to the rhythm of your breathing,
we shared those emotions between us.

Meaning found in every moment,
for you and me.
To the world, silence.

As a glimpse of light beams clarity into darkness,
so do my verses.
See this as a window to my mind.

What is held most sacred to me,
are the thoughts which I alone share
and you alone understand.

I write this for you,
for you know it won't last.
Distance pulls apart all in my world.

So grasp these moments while our feelings are shared,
and let them relieve from us our worldly pressures,
for we exist in pair these remaining days.

These Remaining Days by Calvin

I can't decide if it's sad or romantic that the only thing I have to look forward to today is her phone call.

I want to kiss your lips
to take in your breath
because, maybe, just there --
what you live on --
is the answer.

What is inside you.

Could you share your breath with me
just for a moment?
I would like to try the air
that you live on.
Maybe then I can understand.

Why are you so beautiful.

So Beautiful by Calvin

I can't keep doing this, send help soon.

˙ʇuǝɯoɯ ǝɥʇ ɹoɟ ˙˙˙ǝɯ ɹoɟ ǝɹǝɥ sı ʇı ˙ʇɹoɟɟǝ ɥɔnɯ ooooʇ ɹɐɟ sǝɹınbǝɹ ʇı ʞuıɥʇ pןnoʍ ı ןןɐ ɹǝʇɟɐ ˙˙˙sıɥʇ pɐǝɹ oʇ ɹǝɥʇoq ןןıʍ ǝuoʎuɐ ʞuıɥʇ ʇ,uop ı ˙sǝuo pǝʌoן uʍop ƃuıʇʇǝן ɹo ˙˙˙uʍop ɟןǝsʎɯ ƃuıʇʇǝן ˙˙˙ɥƃnoɥʇ ʇsoɯ ǝɥʇ ǝɯ sɹǝɥʇoq ʇɹɐd ʇɐɥʍ ǝɹnsun ɯɐ ı ˙ןןǝʍ sɐ uoısıɔǝp ʇɐɥʇ ɥʇıʍ uʍop ǝɟıן ʎɯ uı ǝןdoǝd ɹǝɥʇo ʇǝן ı ʞuıɥʇ ı ˙ʇı ɥʇıʍ uʍop ɟןǝsʎɯ ʇǝן ɟo puıʞ ı ˙˙˙ןןǝʍ ˙˙˙sı ʇı ɥʇıʍ ɯǝןqoɹd ǝɥʇ ʇnq ˙ɹǝʌǝ ʇ,uop ı ǝdoɥ ı ˙˙˙ʇǝʎ ʇı ʇǝɹƃǝɹ ʇ,uop ı ˙˙˙ǝʌɐɥ ʇou pןnoɥs ı ǝqʎɐɯ ʇɐɥʇ uoısıɔǝp ɐ ǝpɐɯ ı ʎɐpɹǝʇsǝʎ ¿ƃuıʌɐǝן ı ɯɐ ɹo ƃuıʎɐʇs ı ɯɐ ¿ƃuıoƃ ɹo ƃuıɯoɔ ı ɯɐ ˙ǝq oʇ sɹɐǝddɐ ʇı ʎɐʍ ǝɥʇ sı ƃuıɥʇou ʇǝʎ ˙˙˙ǝq pןnoɥs ʇı ʎɐʍ ǝɥʇ sı ƃuıɥʇou ˙sǝɯıʇǝɯos sʞɹoʍ puıɯ ʎɯ ʎɐʍ ǝɥʇ sı sıɥʇ ǝʞıן ןǝǝɟ ı

Unknown author

I long for your voice as my world grows duller.