Does it make me a weak man
To depend on medications to keep me sane
Or does it make me a champion
For knowing it

You once said you couldnt imagine a future without me
That you were made for me in a completely new way

I agreed
After all I can't think of anyone I'd rather roll alongside with

Then things got a little scary
Old problems of my past threatened me and tried making you a target
Only for you to put out those fires with ease, like your touch was made of the ocean.

Ive never felt like this towards anyone in my past
I doubt I could feel these emotions for anyone else

You've seen me at a valley, and helped me find my peaks
No matter what needed to be said you'd always reach

I can see how real it is every time you look at me,
Retouching on my soul like bread and warm butter
Repacking in my goal like a **** on a new ******

I can love you loud or quiet, it's entirely up to you
But the moral of this story is
Breazy, I'm in love with you.

I never get tired of being a passenger with you
Which is amazing because being a passenger in a car makes me writhe with discomfort
But you sing

Every time I hear you sing absent mindedly in the car
Or at work
Or when you're eating something yummy and humming alone
It reminds me of what true, real music sounds like.

My own songbird
Blown towards me by winds I cannot comprehend
To feed me something I'd gone without
Without realizing how hungry and malnourished I'd actually become

The shining, singing sun
Whispering to the sunflowers
Mimics her voice and lovely warmth across the planet
In her honor.

I had a dream about you yesterday.
It was of one of the nights we came back from the bar
Tipsy and making stupid inside jokes about the Spanish word for Oranges

The only reason I know it was a dream
Instead of me reminiscing in my sleep
Was because when you lit your pipe,
A piece of opal carved from the heart of the earth
My room melted away and turned to the night sky
With us sitting on a patch or grass yet to exist staring at it
You light some greens
And a the sky pops and lights up in response.

The purple lights turn to red and green streaked tenderly across a Christmas tree
In a home I've never seen, yet never felt so familiar with

The windows are frosted with snow and ice
Mountains and forest views buried under a peaceful sheet
You're opening presents.
A gasp fills the air and you start crying tears of joy
Another lighter flick

It's spring
I'm holding your ring speckled hand in my right
And the steering wheel to a car I've never seen in my left
Blasting songs with brief quiet intermissions to tell each other stories
Small streaks of grey dart across my short hair and you can't, or won't stop staring at me.
It's nice.

Another flash from the lighter
We're old and at a park
And still act like we're still trying to win the other over
Laughing and talking about the old bar
And roasting randoms from the bench

A final flick
I'm in my room again
You're staring at me and I just realized I've been looking at you
With a distant glazed look in my eyes for at least a minute now
"Are you okay?"
I don't know how to tell you I'm prepared to spend the rest of my life with you
Or tell you what just flashed across my mind with a flood of emotions I never thought I'd get

Either from being way too high, or for lack of better words, I reply
"Yeah. Just uh.... Zooted."

My house walks.
She's pretty unique in that sense
She breathes with a passion very few get to witness unless she wish it
And carries herself in the stance of a headstrong and charismatic woman

My Home speaks
With a demanding voice that snatches the attention of the soul
She speaks words riddled with experience and wisdom
And laughs like the first song you've ever heard.

My peace of mind travels
It rests on the shoulders of a beautiful vessel created to match the soul and mind of my home,
And unfortunately

When she's roaming, my house no longer has my home.

The day I met you I was drunk
The house was breathing with life and memories being made
And I heard someone mumble something about someone being here
And nearly panicked at the possibilities of whom it could've been

But then you spoke
The room died down for a few seconds,
As if everyone there knew how important you were
And how important you would be
Then exploded into laughter

And you vanished into the crowd leaving a canary yellow glass slipper behind as a calling card

The first Wu-Tang song we listened to together was C.R.E.A.M
I didn't know you were a fan until it came on
And suddenly I remembered that slipper

And as time went on, I'd slowly begin to understand the level of your royalty
I'd see you fight back invisible armies in the name of love
I'd see you take command and charge the world with fire in your eyes
And eventually I realized that, around you
I was invincible
(Or felt like it at least)

And now, here you lay
Empress of Goons and Wu-Tang
Goddess of the very moon and stars that speak through your eyes each time you smile
Queen of the Hood Rats
Princess, and keeper of the key to my heart
And as I watch you laugh and enjoy yourself
I'll clutch the glass slipper behind my back
And wonder when the right time to present it to you is
And I'll pray that one day
You'll allow me to call you mine

There's something about you that's addictive
I can't put my finger on it

Is it the way you look at me with such wholehearted assurance and acceptance that I can't help but smile?
Maybe it's how those beautiful eyes twinkle at the thought of anything remotely fun
Or how your baby hairs dance in the wind while the sun kisses your cheek each time you step out of the house

You have a scent I can't seem to shake
And a voice that's got my heart and veins pounding in catharsis

The first time I met you I thought you were cool
And each time we've met since then
You dropped rose petal after rose petal onto my mind
And lit a candle in my soul

Each time our late night talks melt into soft moans or electric laughter
I feel you steal another piece of my heart

Every time we converse together helps build the unbreakable desire
To slap a massive ring onto your hand and whisk you away

Every magic moment, blending into hours of peace and happiness
Punctuated by the softest parts of your soul.

I told you once I'd paint master pieces in your honor and put them in museums
I'd name the paintings "Not As Good As The Original"
Or
"Beautiful Piece but No Where Near As Accurate As The Real Muse"
Or
"Painting #5,607 of My Favorite Woman"
The part I didn't mention was the Museum's name

See, I'm gonna build it myself
And I'll name it:
The Magpie Museum of the Angel Trapped on Earth
The walls will be littered with portrait after portrait of you
The floor, lined with endless carvings of poetry and compliments meant for you and you alone
And this?
This poem will be #3
Of 10,000.