Be the one who loves,
And be someone more than you;
You know there is more—
Life lives off of ones like you,
Ones who give more than they have.

I'm thinking about you a little bit.
Okay, a lot.
Maybe because your lips were the last to touch mine
(6 days ago) (and counting)
Or maybe because you tried to Skype me from your roof last night.
That was sweet of you.
But also
so very representative
of your lack of  l o g i c  &  r e a s o n.
You worry me.
Did you know that?
Maybe.
Maybe I think about you because you're great at ***.
I'd like that to be the reason.
But it isn't.
Because now when I think about you I don't think about *******.
****.
I think about when you kissed me in that stupid deli.
I think about when you danced with me down Boylston.
And how you always tell me to smile
And how, for some reason, that makes me want to frown.
And how being with you makes me want to tell someone I love them.
But not necessarily you…
And how you inspire me to create things. Anything.
Like stream of consciousness poetry. So thank you.
But then again
This didn't turn out very well, did it?

You are now entirely mine
Formally shown through
Bite marks and scratches
And when, or before, they fade
I will kindly issue you more
On that previously flawless skin of yours
Sleek, toned muscles, on a thin frame
Warm hands, moving against me
Or tied down with silk ribbons
Entirely mine to command

"Amy's eyes are the color
of loneliness
If loneliness were a color"

So they said, but who were they anyway
to judge a girls face

I had thought until the very day
loneliness caught my eyes
and held my  stare

My heart sank and I was apprised
Of the loneliness trapped
in those young girls eyes

Aphrodite high and mighty
sitting on her throne
thinking that she holds the right
to any love I own

Everything that you invest
goes into vanity
unknowing that all beauty
is a fading commodity.