She reminds me of Lady Di.
I think it's her elegance.

She's not indifferent.
She demands to be petted.

She has no worries.
She has no regrets.

She sleeps all day.
She's up all night.

Looking back at it all
I regret many things I've done
But there's no rewind button, no re-do
This deal is take one or take none.

Get busy living or get busy dying
is a mantra oftentimes said.
But, really, what is living
if there aren't any close calls with death?

What's the point of climbing to the top
if there's no risk that you might fall?
And what is really dying
if you haven't lived at all?

Everything can change
It can be lost, never to be found again
Gone for all eternity
All because.

In a blink of an eye:
The moment lost to time
Living is merely observation and reaction
No fate or destiny

I don't know why it happened
I am not sure why it is even a question
Where is the trust?

Why have these conditions taken over the premise of love?
Why doesn't this make sense?
Why does it take so much to make it work?

I am here for a reason and that reason's love.
Still, I am not sure about you or me or us.
I am not sure how long "we" and "us" are gonna last.  

I am hopeful, perhaps too optimistic for my own good.
**** it.
I choose happiness.

It was on the never-ending summer evenings
when the Earth was still warm from the Sun's embrace.
Do you remember with what fervor we'd run in
and along those endless fields back in those days?

Do you remember back when we'd ride our bikes?
Always downhill to see who got there there the fastest.
Exploring the backyard at night with heavy flashlights,
we got scared but were always quick to act the bravest.

I remember those being the good ol' days,
the ones of which I wish I had more
Yeah, they were the good ol' days,
the days worth living for.

They say sleeping is as close to death as you can get while still alive
They being the doctors
The psychologists
The psychiatrists
The scientists
The ones you go to when you try to meet death on your terms
The ones who poke and ****
The ones who ask but never answer

They say sleeping is necessary for mental health
Dreaming allows our brains to process events and emotions
Our brains are just machines after all, they might need a tune up too
Dreams don't mean anything, contrary to crockpot theories
Don't take it to heart, don't put too much faith in that aging computer
My dreams are nightmares that play out gruesome events- memories

You do something to me
You stoke a fire that I thought had burnt out long ago
Without touching, you make me burn alive
With only words, you delve into the inner most parts I keep hidden away

You hold a mirror to me
You allow me to see all the good in me, in you
With the strongest yet gentlest hugs, you put me back together
With your cologne, I carry you with me on my coat collar

The late night texts
Our marathon phone calls
Stolen glances
Playful flirting

My heart beats a little faster
You make me feel alive again
I'm so grateful, so in awe of you
You have done the impossible

There’s now a shape of you permanently carved into my heart.
I trace the outline of it once in a while when I need reminding.

I expertly focus on every vivid memory I have of you as I follow the jagged edges.
And then I remember you’re not mine.

Heartbreak is death by a thousand cuts