The other day the clouds cried
A-a-a-and it was louder than

So much louder than the sanity I thought I had

The skies rendered emptiness

The epitome of the reflection of my soul when you're there, & I'm here,

& the works of art don't exist enough to connect out hearts

And no, empty doesn't always mean clear

I-I-I-I tried to write the other day but the moon was not in agreement

The terms we've come to tonight are a result of the evidence I recently provided to it:

I miss you

My hands are shaking

My arms are twitching

My muscles have deteriorated to such an extent that scratching my own head at the puzzlement of my house spinning is so painful

It is so painful

I am sore

I am so sore

& I just wanna be sure

I wanna be so sure

I want to be sure that our relationship won't deteriorate as my proteins have

Our world has already collapsed once

& the thing is when the body rebuilds proteins, the muscles become even stronger

My arms are shaking

My mind is racing

My hands are twitching

My eyes are waiting to be blessed by the essence of your presence that gives reverence to the very beings of heaven

(Which is to indulge in beauty)

I-I-I-I really want to be apart of your art

I want my thoughts to be found in the midst of your strokes

I want my emotions to be captured by your hues

I want my love to be complimented by my sorrow & I want them to blend in the midst of your creation

Make it so

I-I-I-I try to transfer the goldenness of your skin

& the beauty in your eyes into the words bespoke by my lips and the message hidden in between these lines

I pretend that my pen is a brush that paints the very hint of blush on your cheeks that glows as does Rudolph's nose everytime that jollyness speaks

My arms are killing me

Paint my pain as if it a flame that can't be tamed.
Please.