kiss me on the cheek
like cherries and strawberries
honey, you're too sweet

We met
in a half remembered dream.
With clouds beneath our feet,
and stars in an amethyst sky,
yet you were the realest thing.

And I wonder
if dreams could come true,
and if it was an old memory,
perhaps from another lifetime.

But until then
it's what you'll remain to me,
a wonderful mystery.

and so each petal fell
one by one
until none was left

why do flowers bloom
only to wither
in the end?

I've written and read
poems about the stars
and how they were
so fascinating,
empowering
and ultimately,
unreachable.

I've heard stories
about angels and saints;
Their goodness,
nobility and purity,
serving as epitomes
of what Man could
and should be.

But the saints,
they were once sinners
and there are angels
who fell from grace.
Stars that turned
into black holes,
nothing is safe.

Falling is inevitable,
even for the untouchable,
and what we believe to be
unreal and ethereal.

Sun and moon, day and night,
Light and dark, good and evil.
They say God created everything
for a reason,
so what of the Devil?

I've heard stories,
of witches and werewolves.
But the Devil,
they say he walks among us,
living in the shadows,
and speaking in whispers.

They say God created everything
for a reason,
that He made man in His image,
so why did He put the Devil in me?

You are your own universe, vast and infinite, possessing powerful forces you never knew you had.

You have the fabric of time in your in arms, the energy of gravity in your hands and the power of the big bang in your fingertips rendering the endless beauty of your cosmos.

Your mind is a galaxy, wise and never stops thinking, filled with wonder and curiosity while yearning for the unknown.

There are stars in your eyes forming your constellations; Cassiopeia here, Aquarius on your fingertips and Andromeda in your palms.

Your heartbeat sounds like home.

Your laughter reflects the crescents of moons and the luminosity of a thousand suns and your flustered cheeks are a haze of stardust and memories.

Good ones, the kind that you want to remember and never forget.

You are made up of everything beautiful.

I would shed off my skin if I could,
               reshape my bones if I could,
                     replace my mind if I could,
only to bloom like the flower
you wanted me to be.

I wish I was like everybody else,
because then,
maybe I could have been
               more normal,
                      more bearable,
                            more acceptable,
in your eyes.