Love is a burning cigarette
That makes ashes
Out of the pieces
Of me and
The pieces of you.


--Eleanor Rigby

Be careful boy,
behind those pretty blue eyes
is both hope and heart break,
that has eaten men alive.
The things that go on
in her head
are chaotic, yet beautiful.
I dare you
to look deeper,
because if you can handle her,
your life will never
be the same.
She will be your muse,
and your biggest critic.
She will be your little spoon,
and steal your shirts.
But most importantly,
she will show you
that not every love,
is the same.

When, in disgrace that I myself despise
And all alone do I lament my fate
I think upon my sweet love’s steel blue eyes
And doing so my troubles dissipate
In my philosophy I do declare
That in all heaven and all earth
There is no one so wond’rous fair
I have not a whit of her worth
In wallowing in thoughts of pity springs
My perfect songbird from solemnity
As the dove from the ocean brings
Green sprigs of hope from land to sea
To the ideal you lift me from my spleen
I am, forever, your earnest faerie queene

Ardent lovers and scholars austere
Love equally, in their twilight years,
Powerful and gentle cats, their masters’s pride,
Who like them are cautious and indoors abide.

Friends of science and sensual delight
They seek the silence of the night;
The dark god would have them guarding graves,
Were they so humble as to be his slaves.

They have the air of a sphinx on a throne
With thoughts of solitude they lie alone,
Who seem to sleep in a dream eternal;

Their fertile ***** are full of magic sparks,
And gold patches  and sable marks
Sparkle dimly their eyes infernal.

That's one hell of a spider web,
but I like the way it vibrates.
If it takes two to tango then how many more do we need to tap dance?
I think I fell out of the Conga Line and into the river.
These **** shoes will be the death of me.

That's one heaven of a flower arrangement.
Congratulations on your spatial awareness.
If I had a few more of these then I think I'd finally be able to understand the extent of our particular disease.
It seems we're always partying on a molecular level.

I don't proclaim to know the half-truth of secrets spoken in ancient tongues.
It's all a bit too convoluted,
but if you pull this tab right here then the whole thing comes undone.
And yea sure,
maybe now we're more vulnerable but that just makes it more fun.

I don't listen to what people say much
or comprehend many situations that rise
I use plain language like yogurt
and barely taste the sunlight on my eyes -
I shave my face on Sundays
I occasionally stalk you online
I exercise on a bi-weekly schedule of shame
and I lie to my lungs telling them it will all be fine

How would he want you to act?
A small voice whispered in my ear.
Stop obsessing over the simple fact
Yes, you are all alone with no one to love you near
Yes, you're quite afraid
But he knows the strength within you
Apparently better than you do.
He knows your brain cuts like a razor blade
Show the world the strength he sees.
Admire the way the winter leaves freeze.
Just Breath.

Why does it matter I want to scream.
Why does his opinion matter so much?
Because maybe just maybe this one is on your team.
And he doesn't want you to use your fear as a crutch.
Because he makes you proud.
And there is now a longing to do the same.
To show him, and this bustling crowd,
your deep-seated roaring flame.

So I held my head high
and I went where I had never gone before,
With a mental battle cry.
Because I am his lioness hear me roar.