"Beautiful"

One word and just like that
I am broken into two

Do not call me something so wondrous
If you feel anything less than love for me

Do not use such a heart-warming word
If you do not mean it with every bit
Of your soul

Do not call me that
Unless you have held me
Kissed me
And declared
That we will always be.

So much to say,
No way to say it.

To the little boy in the diner,
I’m sure you didn’t notice me, I barely took note of you
but your clear, childish voice traveled
it reached my booth and seized my ears.
You were gabbing on to your parents
(who were more mindful to your stains than your words)
about all the things you want to be when you grow up.
A teacher, a veterinarian, a doctor, a policeman.
Your naive string made me smile, until the commentation flew.
“You don’t want to do that,” the parents promised.
“You’ll change your mind and give up.”
And you were quiet, but I’m sure you shrugged it off
because that’s what children do.

I am still a child, not too much older than you,
but I can’t shrug off people’s doubts of my dreams like you.
Somewhere along my journey towards adulthood
I began to accept that my dreams are unreachable.
Our whole, young lives we’re told to reach for the stars
but gradually we will be told to lower those stars
until they’re within arm’s reach.
Parents like yours and mine will say our goals should be practical
and with our current lifelong dreams we won’t amount to much.
Uncreative adults like this will instill the dull principle in some,
but I hope not you, and I hope not me.
Everyone has to be someone doing something
so why not try for the stars a million miles away?
I want to look up one day and see
those far off stars are dangling just above my head.

And as for you, little boy in the diner,
I hope you do what you want.
Speak words people will hear across nations,
or whisper melodies for only those you treasure to receive.
Perform actions that millions of people will be touched by,
or be one person’s superhero to lift them off the ground.
I hope you go back to that diner someday,
accompanied by your aging parents.
I hope you tell them that you’re successful
I hope you tell them that you're happy.

Sincerely,
the girl in the diner
P.S. I hope you prove them all wrong.

Why?* If we had such a great start,
to my bed I ask before I fall asleep,
while I'm trying not to fall apart,
before memories roll down my cheecks.

Did I made you inside my head?
Your smile nourished my soul
and now I'm starving in my bed.
You where all I could've imagined.

Did I made you inside my head?
I'd die for another night in your bed.
I'm not smart enough and I blame this heart.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside My skull; I laughed.
The tips were razorblades.
This is my burning soul.

I felt these words come out
Of me.
They are dancing on the floor.
This is my blooming heart.

I felt your lips on mine, and I
Sighed.
I knew June wouldn't let me
Keep this.
It would leave, like you.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside my skull.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap,
Tap, tap. Tap.
They're nothing.
They're everything.
They are names, faces, and senses.

I felt these words bouncing
Inside my skull.

I know now what they mean.

I propose the whole world
can be explained by
just eight letters.

A. B.
C. D.

The beginning
of the alphabet.
Four letters to explain
all of humanity.
The characters are the
representatives of Time and
space. Mere parts in the
sum of the whole.
Every era known to mankind is
encapsulated in
the four letters at the
beginning of it all.

T.
I.
M.
E.

Time Emits off our fingertips.
Refracting like light to make
incandescent rainbows
with a cloud at one end
and a *** of gold
at the other.
Seeing the
rainbow is the
promise that reminds
me we are given
just a fragment of
of Time to spend;
We are just one coin
in the *** of life’s
circumstances.

E.
M.
I.
T.

The combination of
letters almost
reminds me of a
childhood fantasy.
Because once upon a
Time I dreamed dreams,
and those dreams led
me to Harvard or
Yale or to MIT.
But the dreams died out
and the refracted
rainbow-***-of-gold delusion
gave way to
pure and un-adultered.
black and white.
Logic.

EMIT equals TIME
re-arranged.

Two words with
completely different
meanings. Yet childhood
is the thread that
connects all the run-away
dots together.

And then we’re back to the
beginning. Just those same
four letters,
once again.

A. B. C. D.
equals
B.C.—A.D.
re-arranged.

B.C.—A.D.
Equals
T. I. M. E.

Proof that this is
the over-arching
story of it all.
This is the History of
our people.

People are about living.
What is living about?
Is living about wealth? longevity? love? 
Loving is about following your heart.
Your heart is about pumping blood.
Blood is about carrying oxygen.
Oxygen is about breath.
Breath is about air. fresh air.
The outdoors is about nature. sunlight. moonlight.
Moonlight is about night.
Night is about darkness.
Darkness is about evil.
What is evil about?
Is evil about defeating good? causing pain?
Is good about defeating evil? preventing pain?

The rain let up like a ballerina in the air,
Bouncing on her toes and holding her gentle poise,
And then beat down upon the sun-kissed asphalt,
Drumming her song as the morning carried itself along.

I, too, heard her melody and stepped into the rain
With curious feet.
She drenched me in her storm and
Indulged herself all over my hair and skin.
Rather than give a proper response,
I cloaked myself with a violet jacket and kept away from her sight.

When I peered out again,
She had taken off to someplace else,
Left her blessings to be soaked up by the wind wandering fauna,
And opened up herself to the everlasting sun.

I can't help but gaze at the sky.