May I be the one to see you. I mean. Truly see you. May I be the one to explore parts of you that you have silenced in fear of being judged. May I know the thoughts that swirl through your mind in your most silent moments. May I learn the lines to your favorite songs so that we can sing them together as we drive with no destination in mind. May I memorize your favorite snacks so that when you are feeling too much or not enough we can eat and talk. Or eat and silence. Whichever you prefer. May I become your pillow. May my chest feel like home and a safe place for you to rest your head to relieve yourself of the weight that life has placed on your shoulders. May I help untie the knots of experiences that feel too difficult to carry because you have had to do it alone. May I love you in ways you didn't think possible because you haven't been shown true love. May I enter your life and show you that you can be vulnerable and it will be okay. May I paint your black and white into color.

its the kind of hell
that brings you to your knees
in a prayer of fear and forgiveness
but get nothing in return besides
a hole the size of texas
with aches rusting your bones
and flooding your eyes,
but you are still alive.
a shriveled smile of fake happiness,
temporarily bliss,
tastes of heaven through poison-infested lips,
but you are alive.
your heart still beats, opening and closing valves
locking doors and hallways of vessels
lacing through your silk-skin veins.
the words you don't want to hear
in bits of syllables that ends with
a bit of an "i'm sorry" but more of a
"no i'm not."
the highest part of the lowest point
where your heart sinks
through your body
below the ground you walk on
in hopes of protecting itself;
but really,
the grave has been dug
and your heart
is already in hell

my heart accepted defeat long before the light had left my home and to know of satans sorrow was a truth that made the smallest smile i could summon a monumental victory.
alone with the ever slowing beats of my heart now completely unable to keep track of days and nights and against the dark sky, time began to lose all intuitive wisdom.

and with the ******* of space and time came distortion.

ghouls and ghost became party guests
the foul sorts of scaly serpents and winged apparitions had gathered in rows of perfect stillness like marble chess pieces standing guard. they seemed now like great guardians of my fragile spirit. losing hope in the home of horror. the scarlet sky now began to sound its final hurah before the life was to forsake this place. and so it stretched out its smoky hands like raven wings draping darkness over the horizon destroying the last light of what i once knew
and within was me,
accustomed to the demons devilish dance, a prisoner with no will to leave, nor any power to see beyond the tomb that felt like the only thrown i was to belong too

years had passed this way, littered with tragic happenenings, broken relationships, addictions, and loss

now as if by some sort of devine intervention i could feel the dry dead air come alive.the blood drenched sky had stopped shrieking and as i raised my head in relief the horizon burst into brilliant trails of flame emitting hypnotic hues of purple and blue. crackling against the dead air like gun powder a blaze

and in the swell of confusion a sort of panic gave birth to momentum giving way now to a frequency with holy resonance, that filled my flask with potent tonic, upon drinking it began driving fire back into the abandoned forges of my humanity. from the depths of self denial i had emerged without the shackles of self deception to bind me, and from the grace of gods design i knew there was hope.. until there wasn’t.

i’ve written poems about other people, and i’ve compared them to galaxies. i’ve held them up in my sky, and i’ve kept myself down on earth,
just looking.
which, to be honest, is okay,
because if i were to read a poem about myself, i wouldn’t want to be called a star.
i’d want to be old buildings,
or the ocean.
or the feel of a hand.
i want to be the folds of a flower,
or a stupid scribble that you never throw away.

1. i love architecture and old buildings. i want to be compared to the high ceilings in european churches. i want to make people feel a different presence when they walk into my life. i want a poem about how someone said they looked into my eyes and felt peace and grace flood their insides.

2. i love rainy cities at night. i love how the street lights glow and glide across the wet cobblestone. i want someone to see me as those lights in the city. i want them to love those specks of gold, despite the grey and the ugly storm around them.  i want someone to love the storm for showing them how beautiful it all can be.

3. i love pure undulation, and movement. i want to make someone sigh out butterflies when they think of me walking over to them. like my walk is the tinkling of fairy bells, or the movement of the wind through the trees. i want them to see me moving like the colors in Degas’ ballerinas. floating, patchy and pink; how every hesitant brush is a masterpiece itself.

4. i love pictures of sunrises on the sea. i want a poem about how waking up next to me is as gratifying as the moment the sunrise explodes unto the ocean. i want a poem about how you play with my hair as carefully as you would when trying to catch seafoam before it slips away.

5. i love pictures of people in the car with the rear view mirror in sight. i want a poem about the feeling you get in silence riding with someone you have a crush on. how the silence smacks a smile across your face, no matter what. i want a poem that raves about the beauty in how i reached for your hand on a snowy day. i want a poem that trips over words trying to articulate how monumental you felt. i want a poem that doesn't come close.

6. i like pictures of the metro because of how there are a million different worlds occurring at once, but they are moving together towards something new for a small piece of time. i want a world with someone inside of that moment. i want only a moment of forever; a moment of how you felt like we were a world in a bubble.

i thought that because i knew what i wanted, things could fall into place.

[someone i look up to once said that her house and style is like the inside of her brain turned inside out. and that is the inspiration behind this piece. and i will read it as many times as i need to, to remind me how i deserve to feel.]

What are the odds of finding someone
who can finish your sentences
who will let you cut in line
who knows not to just lend a hand,
or an ear when you need them to give you their spine  
who will keep every secret, save every letter,
tell you how you really look
who will remember every single one of your birthdays
without checking Facebook?
What are the odds of finding someone who knows your poetry by heart ?
I will always save you a seat.
I will always pick you to be my partner even though I'm terrible at basketball.
When the fire takes all you have,
my home will be your home.
When you are old and can no longer remember my face,
I will meet you for the first time again and again.
When they make fun of your accent,
I will take you swimming because we all sound the same underwater.
When Ellis Island tries to erase your past,
I will call you by your real name.
When they call your number for the draft,
I will enlist to fight beside you.
And I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back as many times as it takes.
We will stand together against the horses and the dogs
They could tell you how rare this is.
But they could tell you how rare this always is.
The chances are slim.
The cards are always stacked against us,
the odds are always low.
But I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you,
and I choose both.
I want to share every single one of your sunshines
and save some for later.
I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard.
Love,
I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself.
I want to be air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy.
When the walls come down
when the thunder rumbles
when nobody else is home, hold my hand
and I promise I won't ever let go.

Ive always had an eye for beauty.
An energy that makes a difference in things,
and sometimes people.
Its something I cannot fully explain.
Like the idea of paradise,
beauty is something you find in all sorts of places,
is what they say lives in the eye of the beholder.
So believe me when I say at best radiance;
silver and gold and all the diamonds in the world,
have nothing on your smile.
If the greatest of paintings and the most magical evening sunsets were placed by your side,
you will catch me staring at you.
Like iron to magnet
you will find my eyes fastened on your essence.
With deep questions like
how creative must God be?
With you he made the galaxies look like childs play.
I need to know how he fit the seven seas in your eyes.
I need to know how you can be winter and summer
and still bloom gracefully like flowers in spring
while your skin holds the rich colors of autumn.
Your beauty runs deeper than your skin.
You're kind and you're genuine.
Your mind is elegant and your soul is pure.
You're the most beautiful human Ive ever known.
I forgive the world for saying beauty isn't everything.
I know they only say that because they haven't gotten
the privilege of experiencing you.

-EG

I told myself I would never fall in love again.
I hadn’t gotten over the times love had shown me shaky hands so going back into the “playing field” didn’t make sense.
The first day we met I warned myself about you.
The last thing I wanted was another human making 100 promises and not keeping any of them.
And since I could never trust words I shut my ears to the arrows you shot.
But while I guarded for words your smile and touch did the ***** work.
It was the seed that fell on the soil of my soul.
Your smile snuck in while I wasn’t watching and rendered me defenseless and stuck itself so firmly to my existence.
I haven’t let myself get to this point in a while but I must confess one glimpse of your smile and I find myself ready to risk it all again.
Ive doubted almost everything in my life.
But you; and us.. this has gone past the point I can convince myself otherwise.
Even if I wanted to.
Even if I tried.
I catch myself constantly smiling sheepishly at the videos of newly weds on my instagram feed.
In my minds eye Ive seen you in one of those tuxedos,
the ones with cufflinks,
a few inches away 10 minutes after the guests have gone home and we get to begin life with each other.
See,
I knew I was completely finished when I started thinking about my vows.
Thinking of all the many reasons I have to love you.
And even with out you being there,
with out the timing being right or the music playing,
the joy that erupted in my soul was something I’ve never experienced before.
So if this gets through to you,
I need you to know;
there is no one on Gods green earth id rather do life with,
go through hell and back with.
It will always be you.
Each morning I wake up with a pull on my heart and a prayer on my lips.
I ask God to teach me how to love you fiercely enough that you know I would die for you.
While it seems like an audacious thing to say I realized,
how could I love you any less than that?
How can I look you in the eyes and call it love if it doesn’t stir your soul and grant peace to your heart.
How can you trust my loves authenticity if you do not know its willing to give all for you?
How is it love if it doesn’t drive away all the fears you’ve harbored all these years?
It's my prayer and greatest desire to give you such pure and complete love.
The kind only God can give.
I was made for loving you.
I may have a bit to learn and put into practice but God help me,  
Im going to love you so genuinely that the angels will be delighted in taking turns to witness our story.
I will love you so fervently that the Lord will be tempted to hang out love story on the shining walls of heavens gallery.
So put on your seatbelt.
Matter of fact don’t…
Im going to love you just right.