I have this fantasy
That one day you will strip away
All your fears,
All you facades,
All your faces,
And just let me see your soul.

I want to palm your heart,
The way you clutch mine so tight,
And feel it beat,
One, two, five...
Skipping three and four.

Finally,
I want to erase all the scars that run across you,
Old markings and tales,
Railroad tracks leading to burnt out bonfires,
Almost forgotten,
But always reminding you that they are there.

But really,
Above all,
Is that I just want you to be
happy.

**Even if I'm not.

I stole you and put you in a little cage
Inside my heart.
No,
It's not a prison,
(At least I hope not)
But when you hurt,
The cage inside my heart,
It feels it.
It feels your pain
And resonates it throughout the rest of me.

It hurts.
It hurts so ******* much.
A jolt of too much bad electricity gone wrong bursting to life flowing in and out of my veins,
Fire coursing through,
Burning me inside out,
And don't even get me started on what happens on the outside.

Cause on the outside baby,
That's where it hits hardest.

It's this pain that will cause me to wail,
Toss my head back in agony,
And to scream like a banshee.

But that's beside the point.

Just...
Stay safe.
I care.
It hurts.

If I carved the words "I love you"
into every inch of my skin,
would you believe them?
Would you believe me?

If I painted a picture of my heart
with the very blood that it pumps,
would you cherish it?
Would you cherish me?

If I promised that there was no one else,
that there was only you,
would you accept that?
Would you accept me?

There's a tree over there
that waits for its dreamer.

I have survived many.
And lost much
but to tell all would encumber several human spans
because
I have lived and longed.
I have learned and yearned.
I have waited.
At the train station, where existence can only be fulfilled
via a spiritual connection.
Bounded by roots that twist and secure
Soon to be bonded with thoughts
Floating through the sky, riding the air waves, see-through till caught
in a spider's web, or something like it.
And imaginary gets real.
Take in the matter
Scrub the void with scrounged emotions and colors
Pour in materials of lint and string.
Mediums with no particular conductance,
but taught it tight
and strum till the vibrations reverberate
and bring your idea to life in my wings
Because you are my dreamer.
And I am your catcher.
Hung on a wooden peg,
in your study.
Waiting for the day you
pick me up
and all your dreams tumble out and
materialize
and you realize **who you are.