Growing flower vines on the side of this empty house
It's been quite some time since I have seen this door
Since I have laid on this barren floor, it's so strange seeing that carpets face replaced
Feeling the ice of this hardwood floor
How nice it is to miss those memories.
Do you remember when we all laid out, making beds out of blankets because there was no room for us all
And yet we did not fit any other way, finding ways all over one another
Then someone would wake up with ranch on their face
Sleep over rules, my dear. The first to fall gets the joke  after all.
No one has tended to the flowers in a while but whos to say there has been anyone to take that place.
Remember when this used to be so colorful and over there we would scream our lungs out
Convince me that I could learn how to sing and now you wouldn't even hear my voice.
Yet this garden is so pretty.
Raining days would fill the fountains water edge and arise would come the cute babies of those flying bugs.
We confused them for tadpoles more days that not. How relaxing of a time those days were
Worrisome worries having no existence in that time of mind, at least in those moments.
I skipped quite a bit, like how with some silky pants you could go zooming down the stairs being lucky enough not to fall too hard.
The stairs were carpeted but those floors were not.
What memories safe place, where one thought she died and cried and screamed
And now it is nothing but a childish memory.
This house smells old, but still like home.
It's about time that I find home isn't it? With it's own pretty garden and this time my neighbors can hear something beautiful as we would sit outside and serenade the sky.
The flowers would bloom with such variety, colors everywhere!
My children would make explosions coming up and down the stairs, forgetting that walking exist
Sliding down staircases just like we did.
Create happier memories for the future that the past didn't have.
Perhaps this is learning to let go, forget all that no longer serves this body
No longer serves this mind, it's just taking up space. I would rather just cry, let the sea of dams release and find myself beneath the rivers sea.
Happiness sprouts from seeds and I am but a thousand flowers trying to grow at the same time
But all these different parts need different things, different soil, water and sunlight
Breathe
Maybe that is why I feel such butterflies around you and that smiles of yours
Oh, how they go crazy, making a mess of my insides
How did pollen get in my nose ? I'm allergic
Mirror appreciation shows change, from the days where those bags are so heavy
To where it seems like the glow has followed it's morning flow.
There is something to this growth.
Remember painting on the coffee table, so much art lost over the years of an overly educated child
Playing dumb to the world for strategy.
We do not "perfect" so it is right but to express accurately, to be frank this is the last place I want advice.

Sometimes you're sweet like honey
But it can shift to savory and sometimes even nothing at all

Sometimes though you are an explosion of flavor
What the world would call Umami

Trying out this letter thing
How is it so far? I've never been an entrepreneur with words but I know them well enough to get around. Like riding a bike except I forget some of what I am taught, making these up hill rides difficult.
Complete strangers will place there eyes upon this page, screen and so forth but will you? I wonder
Perhaps years after catastrophe has struck, you'll find these broken words of mine expressing this love that I am so afraid of.
I am afraid because there is no denying what you already know of as for others it was easy to hide.
Trapped closet shut behind lock and key because it was "too early" to speak of anything dealing with this feeling.
Of course it was okay when it was accidental, but those moments also felt forced to feel the same.
Where will you go when this is no longer the same? Mystery shape given hand, am I allowed to shake?

Can I be your honey with my stinger bunny?
Sting away those ill willed emotions and make you laugh at all things funny
Help that smile glisten a little more
Isn't it strange?
For the Sunshine Sunrise to feel butterflies
All fluttering around thoughts of you
How do you do? Firebird
Naturous charm, who ever thought a heart could be captured as such
Run with me in this meadows, lets play hide and seek.
Let us feel the energy between us, of us as separate beings.
My job had always been to help the growth or so I thought
You have taught me to grow within myself so that I do not Rot
Your arms are such a safe place, although I feel bothersome

I saw you from the corner of my eye
Flash black, you showed your face but yet your gaze couldn’t meet mine
Uneasy goodbye and sage burnt soon. Left this lingering feeling
Were you someone I knew?

How do people write about love?
It is effortless, like staring off into the flowers edge of meadows.
I write about it, accidental
When the waves are crashing on these peaks
Here comes he in the middle of the sea.
It grows frustrating to say but "This was not meant to be about you"
I would constantly say, laugh at myself but in truth I'm afraid.
What if those words hold some relevance to you.

You've ****** me off to high heavens but god forbid you're the cause of such loneliness.
What is a love poem to a person that is experiencing something new?
He is my Fire Cannon burst through that ships side.
They'll be sinking sure enough just like me beloved heart.
In a cheesy story the girl would faint.
Echoed voices

He'd call me a dork.

Could this even be labeled as poetry?
The inside of my head is screaming
So here we speak ever so fluently, a little broken because my eyes are defective
Body perspective, is to happens to be the same
Painful painful, lonely games.

It is hard to speak with rivers creating waterfalls
Blurred lines of letters, I'm not drunk I swear.
I am just swerving through these lines of paint
Give me a canvas to portray my hate
That was false.

Can you be so sure that you're eyes are not deceiving
That it is not you who's glasses are fogged over with those roses
Pink film world
Can you be so sure, you have seen me?
When we are naked in bed, how can you tell?
When I tell you those secrets, am I obvious?
In truth, we're just scared children learning about love.
Different experiences to add up.

My apologies, fear speaks strongly

Wasn't the night so loud?
Of people cheering proud
Wine glasses hold true to pain of loud noises
BOOOM
This is terrifying
Panic bloom like flowers through this room
No need to water this garden they have more than enough Fuel.
How helpless, fire spread
Reckless thoughts hold true pain
An artist once spoke of her hands being covered in red
She held her skin until it bled with the heed of loneliness' head.

I can feel so much
Yet here we are acting numb.

It is not that of getting lost in the spirals of the wall, those patterns and faces, making shapes from basic dots and strange angles in places.
Imagination straining.
This is dissociation, it is no joke of wow that fan looks nice
But I really just lost my sense of self in this life.
The surrounding surfaces were not real even with my hands on it’s surface
Was this fire really burning, those candles melting?
All I see is glass burning, charred over black ash.
Tell me dear
Do you stand in doorways feeling dizzy because the reality is crumbling and that sense of smell does nothing
It lingers with this annoying sweetness
Yet the candles keep these levels grounded
It is looking in the mirror and not being able to recognize who is seen
Is that me breathing? Am I touching the sink, is my face so strange to look this way.
Some days feel normal and others I have no sense of taste
Imagine those sweet desserts no longer having flavor
We will cry at this frightened state, the world does no favors.
But here we are also aware that this is real despite how it feels, maybe I am magic
Sage my beloved hated name.
Who are you? Why don't you ask the world the same.