Christian Hudak Poems

Our favorite types of days
Are the fog covered hazy mornings
That last the whole day long
Reminding me how much
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I love...

How you make me feel. Spending all day with you in bed, doing absolutely nothing, but being right by your side. How your eyes water when you lay down on your side. Then wiping your tears away. How hard you laugh in quiet places. Kissing your neck. How you rub my finger when I hold your hand. The way your heart radiates. The way you love me. How you never gave up on us. How you never gave up on me. Your coco butter kisses. How you smile every time you look at me. How you never forget anything. Making you laugh. Making you feel better. The islands in your eyes. When you get warm fuzzies. When you spoon me. How you remind me of the color yellow. That you are sunshine. Your big heart. When you go all Niagara on me. Spending every second of every day with you. The scent of your hair. Waking up next to you. That all my friends love you. Being apart of your life. How intelligent you are. Kissing you. How you kiss me. Our kiss synchronization. Going to the library with you. Making you happy. When you call me by my full name. Holding you. Your advice. How soft your lips are. How our favorite numbers are backwards. How you inspire me. How sensitive you are. Your baby ears. That you follow your heart. How much love you have to spread. That you came into my life. Reminding you that I love you. Showing you that I love you even more. Making you smile. When your friends make you smile. You.
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Writing is such a gift
A true gift
Having the ability to express yourself in ways so permanent
Being able to reflect on who you were
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Every morning
Around 3am

I walk out to the middle of my yard
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I lay atop a grassy hillside
Not under, but beside a beautiful oak
Only so the sun can still reach my face
Sunshine pierces my wavering eyes
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Callous behind his armor
A mighty gaul clenches his curved sword
The eighteen inch blade beats against his parmula
Pulsing to the same accent of his heart
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Hesitant to speak, she holds her tongue
Shifting her wait to her back leg
Her thigh muscles tense, her back arches
Shoulders widen, and even more so
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As I rove eagerly, silently through the night
I let my thoughts gallivant
For my mind, is far beyond the clouds
And my destination, unclear to even myself
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Out of a garden grows a verdant forest
A forest of wounded artistry
To be in her presence
Is most overwhelming
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