so we’re not always perfect, and memories aren’t all good. But I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, more than anything else on this entire planet, and my mind may be a mess and I might panic far too much and often  and I find it impossible to put my feelings into words but this is how it is. And like If I could capture the strength of the ocean on a stormy day or the smoke from a wild forest fire surging through the mountains in words on paper with my pen I’d write you the greatest love poem the greatest love story there ever was because I love you in natural disasters and I guess there is no other way to describe it. Because when we kiss the earth shakes and a thousand miles away a large city on the west coast experiences an earthquake of magnitude 10 and for a second life and time as we know it stops and stands still. And god when you touch me a warning comes on television and suddenly there is a tsunami crashing down and washing away the whole town and suddenly I don’t care because with the waves crashing around all I can feel and all I can see and all I can think is oh my god he’s touching me and my nerve endings are on fire and my heart is screaming can you hear it? You must hear it because it’s pounding out of my chest and it’s pounding for you. A tornado brews in the middle of a thunder and lightning storm with clouds and rain and fog so thick I can’t see and I am choking and I can’t breathe and the thing is that I open my eyes anyways and I breathe in the storm anyways and I run around and splash in the puddles anyways and I let the wind whip through my hair anyways as I stand up, throw my arms back and laugh into the wind. Because I am so tired and I am so sick of hiding under the trees to stay out of the rain and carrying around a fire hose to fight the fires around me. I can’t stop the waves but why would I when they can just wash me away? Because I keep hearing stories about people I know and how they keep the doors locked and keep the windows closed and wait for the storm to pass. And I am so ****** tired of locking myself up and waiting it out. I threw open my windows and blasted open the doors and ran from my house into the mass that surrounds it. There’s a state wide blackout in California from the way you looked at me on our first date. People scream in terror and my heart screams for you. An active volcano threatens to erupt and there is a nationwide panic. And through the ashes burning and molten lava all I ******* see is you. Hurricane Katrina broke Louisiana but my god it did not break our hearts. Because I love you in natural disasters. Big, destructive, dangerous, terrifying…beautiful.

Tis better to have loved and bled, than to have never loved at all. For if you bleed and weep for a broken heart, at least you'll know you're human. If you never bleed, never feel a pulse that resonates from within for another, then you would have been made of stone; you would have never truly been alive.

Love will either shackle you in misery, or liberate you. It's a double edge blade with two possible outcomes. The better of the two isn't always the one that pierces our hearts.

That my beloved friend, is the cruel and twisted puzzle of life; do not fret however, for you will one day see the silver light and warmth of joy.

Have you ever wondered about your own mortality? What is ahead of you in the depths of Limbo while you continue to wait for a 'judgement day'?

Humans are vulnerable to such thoughts obstructing their minds. Everything becomes clouded before it turns into a blur. Then you are no longer.

Mortals spend their time going through a routine while we cast down to watch, much to our dismay.

You never know what fate has in store for you, so don't complain. Do not fret nor worry. Time is all that matters. The twisted hands of two for to forever interlock in the dance of Death and Life. Never shall such beings intervene.

Raven eyes set bright and clear as snow on nights of ice and dew.

Ebony feathers drop with a platinum glow amongst their linings against the lighting of the moon.

A ****** crystal and cerulean gem that shine so bright together even if it isn't natural for such shades.

Balanced, are the world of the living and the world of spirits. Pureness and corruption are never to overcome one another. Balance is key and the key is a truth you still have yet to find.

Take me!

Body and soul
I´m all yours.

And I´ve always been
even before we knew
the other.

Only you
were not always mine.
Just mine!
Take me!

I think it's sad where the poetry community has been going.
It seems as though deep, dark poetry isn't considered "good" anymore.
I wrote a "poem" called #Hashtag as an example of how braindead some people are becoming. As I write this, it has 44 views while the other 25 poems i've written in the past 2 weeks have max 23-ish views. I think this is completely ridiculous because poetry for me was once a place to escape the modern day stupidity and revel in the intelligence of literature. Now all I see are poems about computers and "some chick left me so I banged my side-chick". I cannot even begin to describe how much it bothers me that my poem "#Hashtag" has more views than my poem "From the Benevolent Ashes, We Rise!". It's absolutely appauling. I don't even know how to end this rant so it's going to seem abrupt but I can't continue right now or else I'll end up even angrier at poetry.

Is it wrong to not fear death?
Am I wrong to not have the same belief as others?
I don't discriminate unless you push me to the point of showing you your own flaws.

They say the truth is ugly.
They say it hurts.
I see it as the only way to actually face reality.

Honey you're dying,
There's no use in crying
Though I hear your screams
As I watch you bleed.
They once called me the Crimson Scourge,
A queen of the free.
Maybe,
But that was me.

Each passing millennium and I'm left without.
A dying breed and here you stand in doubt,
But never leave me in my lonesome
Because it kills me and makes me stronger.
You wouldn't want to see who I've become,
You'd hate me like they did
And would wish me dead.
You gave your lives for me and I have disappointed you.
They say, "Weep child, for you have lost everything."
Others have said, "Stand mother, for we give you our faith."

It has been seven millennia since I've last spoken to you
And now I have my last favor to ask,
"Could you ever forgive me for letting you be my hearts?"