I’ve grown to like her body, but can’t fall in love with her mind.
We’re not on an equal playing field, no love for the lover, but it gets odd every time we talk.
So we stay quiet.

Originally, I could make love to her mind while we gave thoughts that pierced the order of the world’s system, but I can’t even sense a happiness anymore. We’re no longer a pair, no longer a connection.
We are mismatched.
I feel it, but can’t touch it on my plane of existence.
Raindrops drum on the base of my window sill as I write to the winds, words not flowing well enough so I force them as I force my tears back into my skull.
I’m a timebomb- limited and dangerous, and, sooner or later, I’ll explode.
I taste something bitter between my lips as I make winds flow around me. With my thoughts on my sleeve, I begin to feel
Swooned.
My winds block out the sounds of her
Tears wash away her long lost kisses
And my aching heart throbs enough to get rid of the pain of the thought of her nails on my cheeks as we stared into each other’s souls.
I gave you my heart, love. What was it you planned to do with it besides break it? I wanted the love that you could provide, I wanted to hold hands and speak sweet nothings, I wanted to argue about dumb things and hear you claim to hate  me before we’d make up and become best friends again.
But I was wrong.
Maybe it was bad luck, maybe it was Karma, but I was wrong about you. You weren’t the fantasy I thought you were, you were a chip in my armour that I had no clue about. You were my freedom, but you revoked yourself.
You were my love.
And now, love, I’m afraid we’re in a state of afterlove. I love you, but don’t and so forget my words of sweetness, my ****** jokes or, as you put it, quirky personality.
Your space in my heart has been revoked.

The sun’s light drips off of my body like bright water
Liquid essence falling to the grounds by my sneakers and bathes the pavement.
I’m at a burn in heart.
The life drains from me slowly like needles in veins, but it’s not a medical extraction. I can feel something rising in me that isn’t being elevated. I feel the fear of change but the excitement of anger.
I feel hate.
Who do I hate? None, but I somehow still feel it. Empty words with a full mind, blunt remarks with a sharp intent. A passive aggression beyond comprehension.
I feel her hands on my cheeks as we kissed before she left. I could feel her love as she says she loves me, but I feel I’ve given her too many chances, I feel I’m in a situation of double jeopardy. So I let her go.
And I haven’t bounced back.
Now I miss my honeybee, but she can’t know the emotion dedicated to her or the power she unknowingly has on me. She can bring me to the ground in a matter of seconds, and yet, she stays to play with pityness and pride stings as she flaunts her new lovers.
And so I melt like metals in a furnace.
They say a man isn’t supposed to cry, they say he has to be as strong as steel. But I do cry, and when I do
My hard tears drip off of my cheeks like
Dripping silver

shyness is a sword's sheath
the thing that covers up all of the intent and all of the actuality of an individual.
I am shy
but not because I'm hiding motives
but rather because it's the only way of explaining myself to people.

One thing that I can’t do is sit back idle while I sense tears in her eyes.
I can’t let that happen.
One thing I can’t do is imagine anyone trying to hurt her in any way.
I guess that means I’m gullible, right?
People are people, and I put absolutely nothing as being below them, but she’s an inspiration. She’s a free spirit in public and a good converser in private. She’s a being of light in the tunnel of life, and I’m glad to know her. But somehow she still hurts. And when she hurts, I don’t know why, but I can feel something in my spirit turning.
What’s going on? Why is this happening? Lost words, empty convo, I’m confused to the point of losing grips on myself, my therapy failing for the first time in years. I’m just as shaken as she is, and yet she can rebuild.
Why is this cherry child crying clear tears of pain? Why has this been put in her life? What is it I can do to help? Things I’ll never answer in my lifetime, but the mystery is still killing me.
Upset sadness clouds my judgement, questions arise that I refuse to answer, wishing for her attention sometimes but then not the next. And yet all I want to be is there.
It just feels different, like the balance of the world has shifted in disturbing proportions and now I have no control over what I initially thought I completely overpowered.
Am I really a shoulder to cry on or merely another passing emotion in a setting of many? Is my feeling really different from anyone else’s in this confusion?
One thing I can’t do is let the questions pass without trying to reach out and caress the answers. I need to know what it is that’s going on, I need to know how I can be the knight in shining armor for the princess who’s stolen my heart.
Is that wrong?
Is it considered obsessive if I study people in an effort to learn any and everything I can about a situation I’ve never had to deal with? Am I supposed to feel as stupid as I do when the things I do don’t work?
One thing I have to know is if there are answers to my questions.
The questions I refuse to ask.

Thunder’s crack has nothing on the noise of a wailing heart; a wailing heart is louder.
I know you.
You are vulnerability
If you are the sky, I am the grey that clouds you. I am a two part nightmare of anger and frustration, closer to the heart and far more contemplated than love.
Do you know me?
I am a double dose of bad weather, one strike of my blade causes sparks to appear, and the downpour of my tears causes drought to cease and oceans to overflow with tasteless, clear nectar known as my emotional essence.
I am trouble
Do you know me?
I am as false as silicon ******* but with an intention so real as to throw my mind into limbo. True intent meets darkened heart, I am as bad as a lover.
Do you know what it’s like to kiss someone’s lips over and over again, but wish it was someone else instead?
Do you know what its like to build an intimacy with someone on the basis of a “practice” for someone else?
I do
And the attention I give that thought is enough to spoil children. I am a lost cause, but a just one in all respects. I am a forbidden detail. But one as pivotal as the next.
I am confusion.
Do you know me?

Is it the way her hair flows as we kiss in the winds of autumn, or the way we touch by a lake of moonlight?
Whatever it is, I’ve been caught like I was falling, and I was indeed.
I felt she was special, felt she was an inspiration to me more than just physically, more than just emotionally.
She was an extension of my spirit and a personal angel. She was a piece of me that fit the place of the one missing…
But now my puzzle is no longer complete. Now my soul feels funny, so funny that I can’t identify the buzz that is apparent.
Was it the fact that I knew it would happen or the fact that I hoped it wouldn’t that makes me feel this way?
Do I feel comical or pain? Hurt or hilarity? I’m stuck somewhere I’ve never been, walking the wild woods with warmth slowly seeping out of my fingertips and collecting into the darkness as my body grows colder.
But I am a factory of warmth.
This is why I feel this way. Not broken, but still rebuilding. Not hurt, but still heeling. I am confusion’s worst nightmare, but constant lover.
I am a rock in the middle of the pond that breaks the constant flow of the water around me.
But I am the sole rock to do it the way I do, and so regardless of how the water breaks, I still feel empty in such a large pond.
I am the embodiment of dangerously delicious curiosity and tantalizing intrigue. I challenge the forbidden and go against the normality simply for the hell of it.
But I’m still just a kid. And like any other
I still need love