'What was right about her?' They asked and I didn't blame them for their questions because nobody understood the puzzle that you were like I did.

'What was beautiful about her?' They questioned and it made me wonder whether or not they perceived beauty because you were the most vibrant thing these eyes had ever seen.

'What was interesting about her?' They probed so I showed them my journals and it was filled with every moment,  every thought,  every touch you had imprinted on my life so much so that it seemed I was truly nothing before and after you.

They made me examine myself as much as you did but in a way much different than I had learned,  for both were my compasses yet you never pointed north. My soul felt liberated while it had you in its horizon as if reality was nothing but my sketch book and you my pencil.  I Scribbled on the blank pages, words and art that were inconsequential yet viable to me, to you, to us...  Until there was no more us.

What if we created God?

No,  this is not another conspiracy theory or a girl’s confused saunter in a journey to find meaning to life. This is not to be an interesting argument starter or a struggle to find validation. It isn’t a base for someone to be a knight in shining armor and save a befuddled mind from chaos. What it is though is a labyrinth, a maze of furious eyes and hypercritical thoughts and a road to a much known prejudice.  

But what if? Have you ever wondered?

What if someone, before calligraphy and inscriptions, before devotion and this iron-clad faith, when the world wasn’t as small as it is now and the need to feel presence of another being was at its apex, what if someone in the unknown vortex of time stared up at the vast entity of the sky that seemed to be filled with life back then and called out to what may or may not have felt real.

And just like this make-believe man, what if each of us (in our own way) look up at the sky and in our hearts, and call out to an entity that may or may not be real, may or may not be listening, may or may not be watching over each and every one of us; and I ask myself if it would truly matter if we created God. Would this glorified being, living in the shades beyond the clouds of the promise land lose his or her beauty? Would creation seem less beautiful; as if the depth of the oceans would fail being mysterious or mountains escape their sense of opposition? Would flight become something that was not envied even though our eyes stared at the freedom the wings of a bird possessed? Would the caress of the wind on our skin stop our hairs from standing on end? Would music misplace its rhythm or melodies deafen our ears?      

Would our eyes stop seeing the gorgeous in the world if what we thought created the gorgeous was but only a figment of our own prelude?

I swore I wouldn't take you back when you returned.
I promised myself i'd be strong enough to win this constant battle with you.
But you know how to make me weak.
You blame your leaving on how damaged you are and you show me all your wounds.
You tell me your better, better for me,  better for us.
You say you never meant to start a fire,  you never meant to make me bleed.  
You say you'll be good for all the times you couldn't.
And I believe you knowing as soon as I do you'll leave again and i'll still be fractured...

It doesn't take you long to come back with the same words sweetened with so much half lies.
You'll be good,  you say.
You'll stay, you say.
How bitter your past has been and everything good scares you to death. That's what you said when you found me. I was the good in your horrible and you doubted the very core of me.  You said i'd leave you but it turned out you were the one that left.  Yet here I was splintered....
You'll be good,  you'll be good for me,  for us,  you said
And baby,  i'll believe you each time you do,
Because your the one meant for me and i'm the one meant for you

Intricate flower fleeting in the center of the sunlight,  
A Rose that wilts with sufficient water,
A dandelion that fell from its journey,  
A sun flower that escaped the gaze of the sky above,
An Orchid with torn petals,
A begonia with an unpleasant bloom
An Ageratum that was crushed by age,
An Anemone that learned to grow during summer droughts,
A lonely  Aster,  abandoned by its worshiping friends,



Why did she keep on blooming?

Tell me i'm not pretty because every time you do,  it makes me wonder why I don't have you.
Tell me i'm boring so I know I wasn't exciting  enough and that's why you left me.
Tell me i'm self-centered and that's why you couldn't stand me,  because I never understood your problems.
Tell me i'm unfaithful and that's why you couldn't trust me anymore.
Tell me i'm broken and you left because it was becoming to exhausting to stay.
Tell me I don't have a good choice of things so you decided to find someone else who did.
Tell me i'm not realistic enough to form a future with.
Tell me I dress funny so you couldn't take me to meet your parents.
Tell me I complain about how I look and I drove you in to seeing how defective I was.
Tell me I was so needy that I consumed your time and that's why you failed the last exam.
Tell me i'm not smart enough to understand what your talking about.
Tell me I have horrible music choice and everything on my playlist makes u feel depressed.
Tell me i'm lost in my head a lot and you can't find me anymore. 
Tell me I have an unattractive smile and an un remarkable body sculpture so nothing about me aroused you any more.

Tell me all my imperfections so it'll make being abandoned easy.  I can't keep wondering why you left when I was so perfect. Don't sweeten this viniger with honey.

A grand piano plays past the horizon,
In a place you and I sat,
Oh no,  not with out bodies,  love
But with our souls entwined;
I hear the chellow,
String vibrating,
It calls me,  like you do,  dear lover,
I wonder if we can follow,
To the great beyond, 
Where I knew like you did,
It was our place of peace and serenity,
Where our nature could be shown,
Where we could be happy and true,
Where walls didn't exist,
Where fire was cold as ice,
Where death was but a foreign concept,
Yet our death was eternal.

A touch,
A movement of lips upon another,
A little wet,
Perhaps with tears or the simple caress of the tounge,
Eyes close,
Sense,
Sense the moment,  
Feel what they feel,
Take it deeper, calm it down
Lose yourself,
Or at the very least try to,
Why are you so numb?
Want the thrill of it, need it.  
Stop experimenting as if each body was a Guinea pig in the lab of your heart.
Let go,  for once in your miserable life,  let go
Why so immobilized with fear?
Why dread the touch, that sensual touch?
It won't harm,  it will not hurt
Just trust
Trust the hand that holds you tight
Strock them as carefully as they did you,
Scratch back with the fire of the game,
Roam that foreign body not with the intent to discover but simply for the pleasure of it,
Fall back on the mattress behind,
Drown between the sheets,
Feel the pressure atop you, under you, on every inch of your body,
And when its over,  you walk out
Out of the room of great trepidation,
Feeling nothing but numb,
Feeling nothing but the scar that'll stain your back.