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I can still remember the first time that I was stung by a bee,
I can still feel the pain that started at my left arm
that then spread throughout my entire body;
I can still taste the tears that welled up in my eyes,
rolled down my cheeks, and found there way into my mouth;
I can still see what it was that put a smile on my face afterwards,
and what soon returned me to full-health.

It is fair to say that I had a lot of crushes while growing up-
“love” was a word that I heard all the time,
but it wasn’t until I saw a girl that I cared about kissing my best friend
that I felt and I saw what love was close-up.
It was a strange, painful, and an unfamiliar, feeling at the time-
I can still see them both, even after all these years,
in each others embrace, as I stood staring at them
as if they were in that moment something divine.
Unfortunately, after I saw them,
my mind became flooded with feelings of hurt, jealousy, and betrayal-
I thought that I was going to cry,
because my emotions were over-full.
To this day, I still say that the moment I first felt my heart break
hurt more than any bee sting, ever-
it is a pain that changes you from head to toe,
and I would wish it on no one, never.

It wasn’t until years later that I concluded that
that first heart-shattering moment was the tell-tale sign
that I had fallen in love;
it wasn’t until I had fallen over and over, again and again,
into the beautiful ocean of wonder
that were the eyes of someone who I cared the world for
that I understood that being in love was what fitted me like a glove.

I love to love, I love what love does to me,
I love who I am when I am in love,
and I love that the person that I love never stops inspiring me.
I still get intoxicated when a certain person talks to me,
or enters the same room-
it is everything about them: their voice, their face, their smile,
their eyes, that intoxicates me- more than any spirit, or perfume.

People say that love is blind.
They say that love can make you crazy, mad,
that there isn’t a manual for perfection,
and that love never goes to plan-
and I would have to agree;
but love, to me, is the best thing in the world,
and if you have to be mad to feel it,
then call me a mad man.

The urge to run is a very powerful drive-
to begin a new page; to move on; to run off and hide.
When we decide to run away from the people we claim to love
it only serves to make us look like a coward, and make a mockery of
the feelings we once wrote down, and the emotions that we described,
and makes our words, when read in retrospect, seem as if we just lied
when we wrote of our love for someone, and how we enjoyed their company,
how we thought about them all the time, and found every one of their jokes funny.
There is a John Lennon song that always comes to mind-
and with it a luminous image of someone that always makes me blind-
that takes me back to a time of great confusion,
a time that ultimately sent me into seclusion
from the beautiful Angel who could stop time for me with her smile,
and for nearly a year now, I must admit, because of whom I have been in denial
about just how much I loved her, and how much she inspired me,
and how happy without her I could never be.
The John Lennon song ‘Jealous Guy’ does it every time,
in fact the lyrics to that song describe better than I could possibly rhyme
why, at the time, I decided to turn-tail and run,
and about the regret that I now feel about what I had done.
If there was anything I could do to turn back the clock-
anything that I could say, any closed door that I unlock-
to be able to go back in time and undo what I did,
to stop and tell myself before I ran away and hid
not to listen to that “Jealous guy” voice in my ear,
to keep my heart pure, and my mind clear.
But it’s too late for that now, the time for I’m sorry is long over due-
I have to live with what I did, and somehow make anew
the poems that I wrote, and the devotion that I once showed,
for the woman who will always be the muse of my best poetic ode.

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