You're going to give me butterflies
and I'm going to be mad
when you don't take them with you
when you leave.

As well watered soil
Is to growing plants
A broken heart
Is the perfect condition
For the best
Of my poetry.

You made me smile
And you made me laugh.
You gave me butterflies
Because for me, you were enough.

But I failed, dismally,
To return the things that you gave to me.

He created,
A mind that follows solutions,
An ego so fragile but insists on appearing stable.
A spirit that does not give up easily, and takes risks.
Hands, large, that easily blocks the sun.
Shoulders sculpted, and boldly defined.
Muscles protruding, trying to escape from the skin.
Edges sharp, from the ridges of the brow to the jaws.
And a smile that ignites festival fireworks in a girl's belly.


Everything screaming, "I HAVE TO BE STRONG!"

...thought I was the ocean on earth.

I found out that I was
a puddle that the
rain made and
the sun
vapourized.