I will sometimes forget
The stories you tell me.
The ones about
All your friends
And your grand
Adventures
And mistakes
Because at the time,
I am recording in my mind
How noticeably your freckles
Cover your nose and cheeks
And in what direction
Each wrinkle in the
Corners of your
Eyes
Flies.

blinking constantly, the Morning Light shines behind her
Her glorious Sleepy Smile, My heavy lids like Camera Shutters

clicking for as many Saved Loves as possible
to cherish your softness and this moment Now
to eternalize it Forever
because there won't be many more Mornings quite like this one
i can't remember for the life of me what was groggily said
or if anything was said at all
i think that's because all my focus
left my Ears for my Eyes that were being blinded by
this beautiful and simple moment of Us
the Bright Light
the Warm Covers
the Tired Bodies that didn't want to move away from this Paradise
i hoped the Light of My Eyes were reflecting into Yours
the heart-felt Message that i felt swelling inside my Chest
prepared to Self Destruct

blinking constantly, the Morning Light shines behind her
Her glorious Morning Look, My Mind's Eyes will cherish forever

Another handful stuffing stresses down my core hoping their buried seeds won't grow to cause chaos in my mind's bright and warm sky of daydreams for the dark and cold clouds will destroy the view of a beautiful place.

My hand
in which you
till rows with
your fingers
will produce
the most painfully
exquisite
flowers
by the time
my adoration
for you
reaches the point
where our fingertips
touch.
There will always
be flowers
in my hands
for you,
even if
our fingertips
part.

While sleeping in the water,

Sea otters may hold hands to keep

From drifting apart.

Holding hands,

Minds sail somewhere between consciousness

And to a sea of thoughts and wonders.

We take to rough waters and

Tighten our grips

And then relax them.

My pale body’s dead cold,

But my hand comes to life in yours.

We stroke each other’s fingers with our own,

Each digit of yours is so smooth

Like an otters silky coat.

I study your hands

Every curve

And every bend.

Blinded by wondrous waters,

Touch will find your promised land.

As you studied me I thought,

“Don’t let me go”

Because I was drifting towards love

And I didn't want to go alone.

On August twenty-ninth, two-thousand and seven,
Marks the night my mother will never forget.
The night that had headlights for a moon
And air bag smoke for a cloudy sky.
The night she lost a part
Of her daughter.
For paranoia sets in every night,
I would rather the moon, than those head lights.

Rest In Peace,
To the trusting girl in me
Who got lost in the night’s cloudy sky
On August twenty-ninth, two-thousand and seven.

Seven on my neck, six on my chest, five on my hands, one on a thigh, and one on each knee.

Scar one; Our voices were cut mid-sentence when you swerved onto our side of the road.
Scar two; For the first time, Time was in slow-motion. You made it possible to count the silent seconds.
Scar three; Seven seconds in, my mum cried a religious code, "Oh my God!"
Scar four; You made me believe that's the last thing I'd hear before I'd leave.
Scar five; ... Will we survive?
Scar six; My heart kicks in gear, blood flows to areas that suspect a mother's worst fear.
Scar seven; We're far from Heaven.

Scar eight; August 29, 2007. You made me remember this date.
Scar nine; The words I manage from my ****** throat that night, "Is everyone alright?"
Scar ten; You showed me magic tricks were real. The bowl in my hands vanished with the help of the air bag, sending pieces to the back for another life to steal.
Scar eleven; Can you possibly imagine feeling, but not seeing your cold, stinging, cut throat singing? Singing red, just pouring your heart into it?
Scar twelve; You set two fires to feed. One in my heart and one on my knees.
Scar thirteen; My brother hadn't seen anything but smoke when he woke from his dreams.

Scar fourteen; I know you're a father, have you met mine? No, you were gone before you could tell him his family wasn't fine, and that you may have had a little too much wine.
Scar fifteen; Like a mother duck rushing her ducklings across the road, you put mine in full-mother-mode.
Scar sixteen; When the paramedics came, they mistaken the taco salad for my brain.
Scar seventeen; The way you leaned on our totalled car, smoking a cigarette, not a scratch on you, not a sign of regret.
Scar eighteen; After the hospital, you made it almost impossible for Nan to get me into her car.

Scar nineteen; My friends waited 'till late, crying, thinking I was dead, and my mother and brother, dead. Have you ever had someone mess with your head?

Scar twenty; July 23, 2012. I got my driver licence. And by now, they've probably given your's back to you. This isn't your first time, this isn't my first rhyme.
Scar twenty-one; Driving at night, every night, I still see your headlights right in front of me. My body is still braced so don't you think you left no trace.

Scars. I had more but they've healed. I have 21 scars that you meant because at that number, that's no 'accident'.