Sometimes it's hard to fall in love-
Sometimes it's easy.
Sometimes it takes forever, while a lot of the time
it happens so fast you are left  wondering  where the time has gone
Love is bigger than Life.
Sucking the innermost vulnerability out of the soul and letting it reside in someone else.
Leaving you dryer than the desert floor.
But then having someone sing back  to you  everything you have given away is pure enchantment-
To look into someone's eyes and see yourself-
Yourself in unadulterated beauty, as God's  creation, makes love worth it.
Not being able to explain the reasons why your eyes sparkle when you look at each other
Just knowing they do
Love is knowing, understanding without saying a  single word.
And it's how  I feel when I think about you.

The magic word is "Hello."
The tragic word is "Goodbye,"
And the madness is wondering of who you'll think of in those moments right before you die.

The magic is in the present.
The tragic is in the past,
And the madness is wondering if you'll ever find a happiness that will last.

The time has come to say "Good night."
That time has come to pass,
And this is no time for writing when all these thoughts are coming so fast.

The beauty is in the infinite.
The eternal is supreme,
But the most beautiful things are happening before I can figure out just what they mean.

My mind is still running
The sheep i count are awake
Im wondering if you understand
That what i did was a mistake

I didnt mean,
For fake smiles to show
For empty whispers or those haunting words
That symbolised... no

My eyes flow with guilt
And my voice begs and pleads
'Im sorry, im sorry
Please...please just believe'

this
is
not
a
poem


just
in
case
you
were
wondering

I love your hair the most.
Thick, black
Black in truth and the baring of it.
Black in solidity,
something I'm not used to.

Your eyes, dark brown,  
expressing much more than you allow them to.
They don't reflect the light around them.
They reflect the purity of you.
When I look into them I don't see myself
I see you.
I don't see what I am
I see what I'm lacking.

Your lips are plush like ecstasy.
They remind me of frosted strawberry ice cream.
I wouldn't mind losing myself there,
lingering for days.
Your smile has my heart plunging into fire.
Even a pout will take my breath away.

Whenever you feel insecure about your body
I'm left wondering why.
I'm drawn to it.
All dips and curves.
If you were mine I'd show you
why you should never be ashamed of it.

How did you find my account? because i have a website that links to here so i was just wondering :)

I'm hiding here
in this space where
I keep brutally exposing myself
I'm not really My self
I wear masks
and pseudonyms
and there's certain things I can't say
won't say
because I'm afraid of who will read them
and what they might learn about me
And sometimes I feel that makes
all of this
pointless
I am torn between two
equally important desires
I need to be raw here
I need to be violently open
I need to feel free to express
whatever I am feeling
for no other reason than the simple fact that
I am feeling
But I am also afraid
of the reactions I might get
afraid I might hurt someone
afraid of someone I know
learning something about me
that I don't want them to know
afraid they'll use it to hurt me somehow
I need to be wide open
but can only do it behind the safety of a mask
and even that isn't good enough
I still constantly self-censor
I have pages and pages of writings that no one
but me
has ever seen
will ever see
Even now
as I write this
I can't help but wonder at the reactions
I might get
from people I know
in real life
or people I know
in the wire
or people I've
never met
and that wondering changes me
changes my feelings
makes me second-guess
what I'm going to say
The only way my art can ever be
absolutely true
absolutely honest
absolutely Me
is if no one ever reads it
But what good is Expression
without Witness?
I need to have
an audience of strangers
for each poem
total strangers
that I will never have to see again
Or I should tag my poems on walls around town
in the middle of the night
like my little brother
(oh, gods, what if he reads this??!)

Fuck you
I'm leaving it in

I remember the morning clearly. It was actually one of my first real memories. I remember waking up to a blinding light.  Like looking at the sun through a magnifying glass. Once I shook off the shock I realized it was still dark out and the blinding light was my brother shining a flashlight in my eyes. I guess that's what older brothers are for when you're five years old.

I finally got my bearings and heard a commotion in the other room.  My curiosity overcame my desire to sleep.  I found my grandparents and my mom speaking in hushed voices about something in the living area.  I thought it was odd for my grandparents to be there and so early. Before I knew it I was being handed one of my grandmother's famous scrambled egg sandwiches and shuffled out the door into the car. Still in my pajamas, wondering, are we going on vacation?  The only time they come this early and we get egg sandwiches is when we're leaving for vacation.  Why didn't anyone tell me?  

After a short car ride in my grandfather's sea green pickup truck, we reached our destination. So much for the surprise vacation.  The place was familiar. We had been there many times before. Its where we went to see daddy when he would go away to get better. The sterile white walls is all I remember. And the smell. I never understood that smell but it always made me sick to my stomach. Still does to this day.

This time something was different. There were a lot of people standing around. Some I knew. Some I didn't. Some wiping their eyes. All speaking in the same hushed voices. I have no recollection of the conversation that followed. I'm not sure who told me or what they said. What do you say to a five year old? I cant fathom.

I do remember going back to the room though. My mom holding me and my brother's hands. Trying to summon the strength I can't imagine finding myself now at the same age she was. When I walked in, I thought, he's not gone. He's just sleeping. That's the last memory I had for at least another year.

Staring into the sky
Wondering how it is to fly
To spread wings
And soar
Breathing in the cool, fresh, air
To be free of everything
Racing ahead of your troubles
Leaving them far behind
Feel the wind in your face,
The air in your lungs
Each wing beat
Taking you
Faster and faster
Further and further
No time to think
No time to worry
Just fly
Into the endless sky

You love her already....and it's only been 7 days.
It took you months to tell me you loved me,
you waited and waited, showed me and touched me.
So, what is the difference?
She makes you feel alive, and "special,"
so I'm left wondering,
what hides inside my fingertips,
what is waiting to come forth from my lips,
is what I have to give not sparkling,
not magnificent,
not worthy?
If I were to stand beside her,
hip to hip, would you compare like
it meant nothing?
Would you know your choice right away?
Even if we have history, I suppose it means nothing
in the way that she seems to look at you.
Like that.