hEY Mr. STARgazer
Dad loves stars, but hates darkness.
Mom loves driving, but  hates traffic.
Brother loves, but can't forgive.
Professor loves questioning, but  won't answer a simple question.
Love has a fascination for  eyes, but not when their teary.
You say you love the sun, but you hate getting burned.

                  Hey Mr. Stargazer, have you ever noticed how people only love the best version of, well, everything? They ignore the truth. Beauty comes from sacrifice. A calm soul comes from a suffering past, a bright starry night comes from a million stars imploding.

When she tries to convince herself that she's worth it
Life comes along and whispers in her ear:
"Darling can't you see, you're a broken girl with no direction."
"Look at my other beings thrive in luxury and beauty, while you seep deeper into a puddle filled by your own despair."
Every time she feels the frustration and disappointment that come to her at night, she remembers how "not special" she is and seeps deeper into her insecurities.
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T­hen, she remembers all the things she has in her life and all the meaning she has given them.
She's still a "work in progress".
    
Life will never grant you your wishes if you keep sitting around thinking about all the things you aren't instead of all the things you are.

Life will never be "fair" or "great" to you since all you do is sit around in your own despair and wish for a better life instead of working for one.

I sit near the window.
Searching for some inspiration to clear my restless mind( As someone looks for me)
But all I can do is reminisce and overthink
I seem to live in a movie
where I... I'm the main character?
and who looks?  I really don't know
is it god?
Is it me from the future?
Is it the bee near the lilac flower drowning in golden honey?
Is one their own audience? how uneventful.....
People ask me who I am when no one's watching.
But all I do is sit near the window and dream about who's watching.  
I never truly feel alone.
Unjudged.
iT's all to impress the fool who watches as I sleep.
it's all for our selfish ways and thoughts,
Who are we really?

Let me sip my now lukewarm coffee and question my purpose, maybe that may entertain my audience who tries to define who I am before I even know.

Late at night, her skin glows against the pale blue moon.
Mid-afternoon her hair sparkles with the sunny rays as the sun sinks to sleep.
Her hair as yellow and bright as a sunflower field.
Her summer days are filled with numbing cotton candy sunsets, vibrant pink bows, cheesy romantic novels and a luminous tone that follows her shadow.

But, the other girl...
Late at night, she disappears from sight... all one can hear are her cries.
Mid-afternoon her hair is wild and frizzy as she runs from the glowing man.
She does not glow a white light...
She works all day under the sun and leaves with a tan tone and watery eyes.
She is so beautiful. She is not like all the other summer girls. She doesn't need the blinding light to be noticed.

Some want you because they like who they become around you.
Others hate you because of how much others love you.  
And sometimes, only sometimes you're just too much for some people.
And you: well, you can't even see it.
A picture-perfect boy with a clean background check.
I think I know what you're hiding. But I don't dare assume. I don't want others to mistaken my admiration for jealousy.
You love how others see you.
So pure and kind yet so demanding and unkind.
Your trick us. You create this image of yourself that is so unnaturally perfect it weakens everyone's heart. I wished somebody would have warned me about how fake your magic is.

It is now my favorite color
It fills me with joy
It is the soft hue of an  8 am morning
the honey-tinted specks in your eyes
The blanket your freckles lay upon of
the color that means so much to me
It's a soft summer morning in Italy
its the color of the curtains that cast the prettiest light pink reflection unto your cheeks
it's in the pages of my dad's old travel journal
it's in the sand of the worlds deepest sea
it's in the walls of the little room beneath the Canadian stars
It's in the gold glasses when the sun shines on them
Its life in a color.
iTs the color I see in you
It caresses me like a feather
it embraces me like a hug
I feel it like I feel you.
I want to sing this color and what it evokes
I wish I could be this color
this simple
gentle
refreshing
color.

There are people who cannot speak without smiling.
There are people who cannot cry without blaming.
And there are songs I cannot sing without dancing.
And I sing you like a song I heard when I was young.
And I  love like I discovered the concept.
I want to teach you how.
How to feel...
How to sing...
The drizzle of rain hugs me.
The shadow of your eyes miss me...
I Want to sing you like a song I cannot dance to.
Oh my love, There are people who fantasise about freedom and then  slowly build the walls to their own prison.