Run away with me for a
day. Let's go to a place
that's surrounded by
mountains and a lot of
green forest trees. A place
where the flowers will sigh
and blush when they see
us kiss and touch. A place
where we'll get to be the
normal us. Away from the
public away from the law.
Away from those with judging
eyes and the haters dressed
in disguise. Let's run away
so far away. Where we could
kiss and hug. And talk about
our dreams with passion to
one another. A place where
I could scream the words of
I love you out loud while I
feel so confident and proud.
A place where you'll take my
hand and count to three. Lean forward and ****** a kiss
from me. A place where we'll
make a little bonfire and
have some coffee and tea.
Stare for hours at the blue
skies. Watch the dandelion
seeds and pollen grains float
away up high. Wait for the
stars to come out at night.
Where we'll be the only
audience waiting to watch
the show they'll pull on. The
only lovers up late in the
open wild. The only ones
who'll appreciate the light
they'll radiate in the dead
of night as they'll shine
bright in the dark
skies* ~

Each day she posed naked
As he continued to paint
Engrossed in the picture
She was twenty to his fifty
But his age never upset her
In truth, she was falling for him

He never attempted to ****** her
As if he ignored her body
Maybe she was not beautiful enough
She knew he lived all alone
He never shared his home
If he asked, she would be his

She tried to show temptation
Wanting him to notice her
No matter how much she showed
The curves of her body
He would just keep painting
As if he never noticed her there

On the last day she could take no more
"Am I not beautiful in your eyes
Can you tell I desire you
I would do anything you ask
If it be only for one night
I am yours if you want me"

"You are young and beautiful
Your beauty will be seen forever
In this painting, In your honour
But I loved so very long ago
I lost her to Mistress Death
My heart belongs to her, always"

dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.

We were never at a crossroads,
because our paths never truly crossed.
Yet observing your life,
your time in college,
your new friends and acquaintances
all from afar,
leaves me feeling cheated.

It was upon seeing you in the library,
books all about you, hard at work,
that I fell in love.
You were beautiful, well-dressed and groomed,
you were highly intelligent, at the very least academically,
you excelled artistically, producing magnificent creations of paint and graphite,
all of which is still true to this day.
I attempted to get closer,
to befriend you and, of course, pursue more romantic relations.
You never were interested.

Do not get me wrong,
I have moved on, I live my life happily.
From time to time, however, I still wonder on what might have been.

Women sit, or move to and fro—some old, some young;
The young are beautiful—but the old are more beautiful than the young.