Your body heat is heightened by the blankets over our bodies in attempts to keep out winter's chill,
Yet the heat doesn't melt the look in our eyes when we go through the steps we've threaded so long that the footprints are permanently embedded on the path that led to "us"-

"I love you" is so soft I can't heart it,
And the embraces so short I forget they happened.

Falling asleep next to you means we are close,
But underneath these covers also lies a truth between us that not even skin upon skin could break through;

Proximity means nothing when hearts are far and eyes see through.
However close we are won't make up for it because proximity means nothing when the only time we are close is when I'm physically next to you.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

This isn't a pick up line though; I want to know how badly you bruised when your wings were clipped and you fell so fast you didn't even know you had fallen.

I know you thought he was your heaven, your above all else perfect, your safe haven but tell me,

Did he let your wingspan expand and be all it could?

Or did he pick at your feathers, one by one, until you were bare and unable to fly?

Did he tell you you couldn't fly without him?

What did he say that made you believe you didn't have the power to get up and sail along the skylines like before?

Do you feel caged in his heavy arms?

Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

I think it hurt more when you fell in love with a boy that created a false sense of it, and made you believe that life without him hurts like hell.

I think you mistake the bruises he gave you for ones you think you'd have without him.

I think you're fearful of falling from his grace, his arms, your perception of heaven so much that it will plummet you into the depths of hell,

But I know better;

I think you could make it out alive.

Hell, I know you could if you would extend all you are beyond arms length, let yourself free fall into the unknown and remember to take up the space you deserve.

Open your eyes, open your heart and open your wings because the wind will carry you far, you'll see the world that you thought didn't exist without him, and you'll realize that the real hell is sewing up your heart and delivering it to someone who doesn't heed to the "CAUTION: FRAGILE" stamped on top.

I know it's going to hurt when you fall from your heaven,

But know it'll hurt less than contorting yourself into a smaller version of yourself so you can fit into his figure when you fall asleep together

I know it's going to hurt when you fall from your heaven,

But know it'll hurt less than giving him the clippers every time you feel the need to fly and watch the world and all you could be pass you by.

Put on the show,
Paint the mask and wear it with pride,
As if hiding reality was something to boast.

**** in, zip it all tight
The same way you do your lips
When you'd rather unravel and cry.

Paint the smile,
Stamp it across your face-
Make believe for everyone else.

Put on the façade,
The one that fools the masses.
Yet I know to look beyond your face-

Your eyes are sea storm blue
And sting with tears
Because you let them fill for so long,

And you shut up about your problems
And your insecurities
And your fears

Because the fear of honesty
And reality and being geuine
Kept you from the ultimate release.

Paint on your mask,
Don't let your true face show
For the world to see.

God forbid they know,
God forbid you tell the truth,
God forbid you admit you're unhappy.

The early risers haven't awoken yet,
And the parties are just dying down.

When I'm at awake and alone at 4 am,
I drive around this town-

Through the quiet neighborhoods,
Sedentary stop lights,

Waiting for cars to change them
Through the wee hours of the night.

Driving along the dark streets
With nothing but my radio and my mind,

I find solitude and peace,
Something rather hard to find.

At 4 am, the hour of awake and alone,
I find myself driving amongst the others like me-

Unwilling to shut eyes,
And always willing to roam.

Don't build a home in the rib cage of others is what my mother told me when I found myself wishing my bed was "ours" and home was more so his arms.

Don't nest in the heart of anyone for hearts are fickle, fate is unpredictable and alas, people always change.

Don't place all of your eggs in the basket of your lover- when they hatch and attach, they may be so comfortable that you never leave and never learn to fly.

My mother begged me to not lose myself in swimming his veins, the web of his mind and the sheets when the bed was ours. Some days I wish I would've listened, but finding a home in the heart of someone else taught me this-

Hearts are as fragile as the nests you build in them.

Your wings flapped too hard and created hurricanes when you lost control, and chipped away at your rib cage nest.

You picked and probed with your beak to no end, and left holes and tears in your heart home.

It's not fair that your own heart was so full to the brim with demons and doubts that you unloaded them like your belongings when you first moved in, left scattered around, left out for the mess you were.

Your fragile heart left marks upon your home and the foundations flew away like you should have when your rib cage nest and your heart home grew too small and let you fall. It took falling to learn how to fly but by then it's a little too late.

Do not make a home in the hearts of others, my mother told me.

Someday you'll have to fly away without your heart because the weight of it is too heavy from a lesson your mother tried to teach you, a lesson he taught you and a lesson you've come to preach-

Do not leave your heart in the rib cage nest of another, for it'll nest so deeply that it cannot be reached.

I wrote this for you because there were times I wish someone had written this for me-

Stop hating your reflection, stop hating the girl that is in your mirror. She is you, and you must love your fingertips to your eyelashes, your toes to your stomach all the way down to the edges of your soul and the depths of your heart.

Stop letting him be your world. Have you ever looked at a map? Have you even seen where the rivers go? Have you ever realized that you can get in the car and go? Don't tell me no, because it's true. Instead of following the rivers you let him create them and they flow down your face. Stop swimming in your tears, don't drown in his consuming love. Swim far away and resurface. Breathe in and out. Get out of the water and dry your tear soaked face off, and don't swim until you're ready again.

Stop letting your insecurities shape your mind. They're like needles injected into your body, leaving injuries and drops of blood while extracting your strength to put those thoughts to sleep. You have to learn to form your pretty little fingers into fists and start fighting off those nagging voices in your head that say you aren't good enough. Throw a punch, take a hit, get back up, wipe the sweat off your forehead and do it again. Battle until you come out bruised but on top, exhausted but a winner.

Stop letting him be your measure of worth. His attention and love will never, in your lifetime, fill the void where your own self love should be. He, nor any one guy, will ever fill your heart the way your own self love could. I promise you that loving yourself is so much more rewarding than someone else loving you. I promise I promise I promise.

Stop making excuses. Are you really happy or is that what you project? Is your smile real? Does he make you genuinely smile anymore? Are you falling asleep in his arms feeling alone? Are you?

Stop reading these words and start doing. I wrote this for you because I know he never would.

Storing the tears dripping from your cheeks so I can water color you a picture of why, even at your worst, you're a work of art-

Whoever created you, evolution or God or the pairing of particular chromosomes, dipped their brush into a palette of sunsets and starry night skies and painted your bright smile.

They borrowed from evergreens and forever instilled a dark green hue for your eyes that are as old-soul as the rings of the trees.

Your skin came from the white of peaches, your freckles from the brown of river stones smoothed by the water and time.

The curls and color of your hair came from beaches that only knew washing waves, seagulls and tiny ***** and seashells.

Your strength emulates mountaintops covered in white snow, blown by harsh winds yet still standing tall.

A mind like yours looks like clockwork- gears grinding constantly,, hands spinning and continually rotating, not even stopping when easing into the darkness of night.

Strawberry-red across your cheeks when you blush, the white of crashing waves when you receive news that's takes the color from your face, yellow sunflowers when you laugh the way you do.

A heart like yours was painted from the heart of mine- I dipped a brush into my own heart because I know there is where I know you best, where I honestly know you for who you are.

Cry your tears, give them to me.

I'll make you out to be what you really are, what your eyes cease see-

Your tear-cleared eyes aren't cleared enough for they do not believe that you are nothing short of a masterpiece.