I arrived to class several minutes late, parking was terrible.
Darting between seats, I wandered towards my seat.
There she was sitting across from my seat at the table; the purple girl.
Today she looked over at me and smiled, then resumed listening to the lecture.
Her purple pencil flicked up and down as she passively tapped it against her open notebook.
Her purple shoe flopped loosely against her heel, dangling onto her forefoot.
Her purple hair shone in the  daylight pouring through the window.
After class my brain fought with itself, debating on speaking with the purple angel.
As she arose with her packed purple pouch, I uttered a phrase.
“Your hair looks lovely today.”
I looked away, embarrassed with my not so subtle compliment.
She giggled, brushing a strand of hair from her eyesight.
“Thank you, I like yours too.”
She wandered out of class with the other students.
Next time I will finally raise up my courage.
For the purple girl.

sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor

Maybe we're growing up and I have yet to realize-
That peanut butter and jelly sandwiches won't be your favorite food forever and that sometimes whiskey tastes better than a lemonade.
But I will still love
As madly and as carelessly
As blowing dandelions into the summer breeze,
while exchanging kisses beneath the hot sun.

If the ache in the core of my being stops
If my eyes stop flooding dry land
If my mind stops gasping for air
If my sleep becomes tranquil
If I stop thinking your going to walk into my room
speaking the word I longed to hear
"I never left Chris, I'd never leave you"
does that mean its getting better
or does that mean I'm going crazy.

A 14 year old tender,
Came with a situation
He can’t decide his gender
Social keys challenging perception.

A prof. got suspended from his job
Coz he can’t love a woman in the ****
His feelings for affection were just like us
But for men, that he can’t discuss.

A girl of 25 don’t want to marry
Coz she love her girlfriend back in bury
She know it’s impossible to do this
As the law prevent love between two fairies

Now the question arises
If love has no boundaries
Why our brains are in cages?
As metals are casted in a foundry
God has made us in different pages.

We all pray equally
As do lesbians and gays
We all love equally
As do Bisexuals and Transgender
We all make friends evenly
As any girl or a boy
So why we can’t love legally?

Think and make others think
We all are humans, catch the link.