A spark, a spark, a spark
An ignition in the street.
A compromise to sweep you off your feet
and repeat
why do you stand beside me?
A cheek
a kiss
a pretty hand to hold
behold
the power of how much an emotion can do.
A bottle of wine after a disappointment,
or a compliment and a kiss
of those ethereal lips.
Talk to me about why you are here.
Why me?
How do I deserve the sound of your everything?
She waits to speak in the most beautiful way
the action could possibly be completed.
Love.
The love that you give me.
The grip when you hug me,
The look when you kiss me,
The nook where you took me
And the meal that you bought me
And the lessons you've taught me
And the things you've shown
To make me a better person.
And she didn’t even know the half of it.
She didn't know that her eyes exploded with significance.
She didn't know that her smile never ended nor began.
She didn't know
how lucky I truly was
to be here.
All I knew is
I'm glad I bugged her,
I'm glad I called her,
and I'm glad that she answered.

People are like caterpillars.
We all start out the same but we all change.

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

You ask me to write about love...

What is love?

To me it is what gets you up,
When you don't feel like breathing.

It makes you laugh,
When you feel like screaming.

It makes you feel a mile high,
When minutes ago,
You were twenty below.

There are so many aspects of love,
If I wrote them all,
I would write to death.

Maybe thats where the line,
Til death do us part,
Comes in.

Because if you really want me,
To tell you about love,
It is so much more then everything above.

Love is complicated.

But then again,
So are you.

Physical pain goes away,
Mental usually doesn't.

It hurts more sometimes,
But it usually doesn't.

Physically I am fine,
Mentally is a different story.

Mentally,
I'm a mess.
Physically,
You wouldn't even notice.

Peel it off
One by one
By every single thread
So every single strand
Is unwoven by a broken hand
And reveal to us
What you've done.
Were you scared?
Were you scarred?
Beaten and mashed in and marred
by the wasteland in which we breathe?
I don't know which came first:
the euphoria of absolute power
or the fear of it.
Regardless,
we are here.
in the wasteland.
And the worst thing you can do-
the only crime you can commit-
is to stop peeling layers.
and stop wondering why we are
where we are.