She was a force of nature
Her blood ran as cold as a tundra
Her thoughts spun like a tornado
She was the reason hurricanes were named after people
She could leave you drenched and defeated like a tsunami
Her kisses were electrifying
God gave her the beauty of a spring flower
She was a natural disaster the news forgot to warn you about.
She was catastrophic

the universe whispered in your ear tonight
telling you that I loved you, before I got the chance
through shooting stars and constellations
it uttered words my lips were too timid to speak
tears cascade along my cheeks for every emotion
there are buckets filled with our past
poured upon our heads to remind and refresh
cleaning our wounds from broken record paper cuts
from broken record people, promising unrealistic lies
but simplicity of a soul brought me to you
and the sky spelled out our name in empathy
for we ride the stars to an oasis of something new
blossoming and forming flowers of words you're too scared to say
but the cracks in our petals of speech
do no good up against the universe
because it is the universe that confirms
the dark is darker without you
my heart beats louder around you
and all of me, is in love with you

On the outside we seem as
we have it all figured out
when really on the inside
our feelings are crushed
and were torn apart
physically and emotionally
but nothing can fix us
except those that tear us apart

why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds

Whatever happened to the moments
we lived for
the moments we lived from
electrifying lives
currents of passion
high voltage that knew no resistance

what do I have to do?
to feel the surge
to feel the spark
to feel alive again?

Is it in the tomes?
Is it in the songs?
Do the muses hold it in the walls?
Is it inside of me?

Searching for the switch
to send me back to passion
To make me feel charged again
to make me feel in charge again

in this moment
rare bare mineral
emotion
i realize that death
will never be understood
but accepted
only after your
               my
                    our
last breath
will we know
if angels will carry
our story
our soul
to a paradise
or if each life
is simply a birthmark
on the skin of this earth

I wish you'd develop and addiction to me
in the same way you're addicted
to your menthols.