Though my eyes are green
They cannot see the finer things
Words always rip my heart at its seams
My own, or said by other beings
If you give me love, I’ll give you wings
I’ll worship you with much extremes
And if you leave me, by all means
These green eyes will weep burning streams

It smells just like her
It smells just like the woman who taught my mother to raise me
The woman who comforted me when it stormed
The woman who taught me to appreciate my German heritage
I miss her . . .

I hate that
Even after all you’ve said
I still crave to hold your hand
Hold it tight
As if I let go, all of the happiness in the world would escape  
Not a word needed.
You don’t have to kiss me.
Don’t have to love me. . .
I just want to hold your hand . . .