You looked at me like nobody else did,
making my stomach churn with anxiety.
I was nervous,
wanting to spill the contents of my thoughts on the floor.

I saw those compassionate eyes,
looking directly at me, not around.
A longing smile that erased all my doubts,
suddenly feeding me,
with knowledge that wasn't there before.

One bliss moment your lips,
as soft as a cashmere scarf,
pressed so carefully onto mine,
as if I was a china cup;
so fragile.

Like a jolt of caffeine kicking in,
our ballet spins into a break dance,
perfectly nailing every move,
swaying back and forth,
back and forth.
Stop. Applause. Encore.

I can feel the golden warmth awakening  my paper.
Everything is so right,
it's a cool spring night,
the city is so alive,
my poetic mind should awaken and come to life,
then why don't I want to write?

Perhaps what makes us put our ink pens to our lined papers,
is when we know,
we must give it love, anger, sadness, assurance, care.

When our minds and bodies are touched,
so tremendously with feeling,
that we must rejoice with our beloved;
as we make it feel what we feel,
inking our thoughts permanently,
scratching the surface until we are content.

But if we only feel neutrality,
it is alright to stare at the white blankly.
We will rejoice another day perhaps,
tomorrow, a month, who knows?
Only time will show.

Good morning young sky,
so pink and opaque as you awaken with the sun,
peeking through the blanket of clouds.

You make me smile as you gift me droplets of rain,
cooling my warm skin baked from the shine.

Your rich earthy smell fills up my holes that spout air,
making me whole again.

You keep my mind awake and my body safe,
knowing that whenever I look up you'll always be there.

You sit there like a king,
acting like a puppeteer,
thinking you hold the world by it's strings.

Like a mysterious raven,
you succumb to a face of no emotions,
pouring nothing out and letting nobody in,
trying to hide behind a torn wing.

Until one day, I saw you face,
and just like when the water ripples embrace sand,
your tides embraced me,
for once you said you felt free.

And just as quickly as it began it stopped,
you rapidly drank the waves back up,
and I was left with the salty aftertaste.

You may think you hold the world by it's strings,
but peer down below, it's not connected to anything.

Sip, Sip, Sip,
I fill my myself with liquid coffee,
giving myself a caffeine cure,
hoping to patch the holes of my aching body.

Grip, Grip, Grip,
My hands grip the pencil tight,
trembling from constantly writing,
fingers sore to move anymore.

Chip, Chip, Chip,
I have no diet anymore,
eating anything and everything,
making me sick to the stomach.

Lip, Lip, Lip,
I chew my lip,
wanting yours to be on mine,
Giving my cold body warmth.

I feel like I'm in a constant cycle,
excitement replaced with a pyramid of stress.

Give me your presence,
and free me.

You're like a caramel latte,
Thick sweet syrup settled at the bottom,
protected under a barrier of ice and coffee,
never wanting to be shaken.

But I know how to love you.
I sip through my plastic straw till I unveil the truth,
******* away those spots that have scarred you for years,
And leaving you only with sticky sweet love, pure love.

The moonlight awakens the city,
as if it weren't night but day.

The gentle whir of a night drive is distant,
enveloping the sounds of the tiny night owls hoot.

She steps onto the cold linoleum floor,
feet pulsating from the ache of working.

Fingers sticky with blue ink,
open the dark French doors.

The breeze caresses every part of her body,
as her cotton dress blows away,

Revealing smooth legs,
once wrapped around her lover.

One, two, three steps,
towards the edge of the balcony.

Deep within her pockets,
she finds her treasure.

Soft lips press into the paper,
Feeling the bumpy scratches a pen had made.

One, two, three,
Slowly, it floats away into the pool of darkness.