I was writing
In the park
Under a singing lark

Bluebells softly sway,
Whispers of spring in the breeze,
Nature's quiet song.

On the door of my heart,
Love is not allowed inside,
Love smiled and said,
"Sorry I am blind."
10/4/2025

If only my heart had words to speak
It would tell you I am here, I am here
I give you a piece of myself
Do with it what you please

And if these hands could challenge my resistance,
They would have found their way into yours
Clumsy and nervous
Waiting for your fingers to vine into mine

If my feet led me,
They would sprint towards you
and choreograph our steps
They would not let me leave your side

But they will not, and love will not leave us
And my lips may not press onto yours,
but these dreams will suffice

For now, words are all that holds us,
and the hope of what is fate
The dancing stars in an upside down sky
and the exchange of a morning grin

And my heart cannot speak,
so heat blooms inside of my chest
but one day it will,
when we are both ready

Blindfolded. Pitch black. A hand I'm holding so hard I can't feel my fingers. You are terrifying uncertainty. An infrequent down pour to clear the desert dust, to feed life, to give love. Infrequent. Uncertain. A need, a want, a desire that comes and leaves when it pleases.

I would fall into the abyss in a heartbeat, if I heard you echoing my name from below. And I would bleed love from my fingertips and sign your initials on my skin. This is a game for fools, a thoughtless gamble fueled by pure emotion, but I would bet every last breath on you.

And when I can no longer hear your heart in sync with mine, when your feet decides to lead you away, when your hand begins to tire, I will bite my tongue and I will send you on your way.

it begins with a girl,
a hopeful heart
and a little imagination

It begins with an exchange of names,
sneaked glances
and a few possibilities.

it begins when my palm
meets my chin,
when my eyes
meet yours
and I start to wonder
what could happen if
we spread
like ink on paper,

i sat up in bed,
the date on my bedside clock read
future.

fast and lyrical,
conversations above water
and chances in the air.

then it really begins
whispers into shells
because we know
that the universe
might hear our secrets,

jokes that make no sense
I laugh anyway
because I'm too consumed
with the smiles
that your presence brings,
and playful banter
that ends in pinched cheeks

and the greatest moments of silence,
silence that is understood,
rare and kept close
to hearts of those
lucky enough to find it.

All of these beginnings
are far-fetched and honestly,
I don't know what happens after that
but I'd really love to see
if I can predict futures.

And so,
do you maybe,
possibly,
perhaps,
want to see
if these predictions
will unfold?