When you asked me how many times I've fallen in love.
I never told you the entire truth because this time around
The truth sounds as a lie.
Once was the amount I gave you, and you knew that you were the one I was talking about.

I've fallen in love a countless amount of times.
In ways in which wouldn't be considered true.

Such as the way in which you guard yourself,
The ways in which a smile will dance across your face,
The way your eyes always hold a secret I have the desire to find,

How your hands always seem to find the crevices in mine to fit ever so gently,
In which your hair is so easy to become messy,
The way you laugh,
Even the ways in which you read,

How your handwriting is a sloppy scribble that I love to decode,
The sound of your voice when it's dripping with sarcasm,
The ways in which you discuss your favorite things it's as if a child on  Christmas morning,

I've fallen in love with all the small things.
I've fallen in love a countless amount of times;
Always with the same person.

Everyday there's something new I discover;
That I'll find myself falling in love all over again,
And it's always with you.

I have stolen lives
Of the faces that don't have names.
With only words to serve as their memories
And as every page goes to create a different story.
To become friends with a person who can only exist between these lines.
A whole new universe to explore that will never be mine to call home.
I've ripped and plundered,
created and destroyed
all these strangers
who have become my friends.
Within these pages I have
built a home
for all the souls inside.
.
So if I were to ****** a person
in any kind of way;
it is here they would stay
among the pages
where all the old souls
remain.

I could write and write for days
On end
But never would these words
Even begin to explain
The thoughts that scream inside my head.

Even if the world comes crashing down
I'll still be holding you from here on out;
Just as the stars collapse to the earth
I promise I won't let go.
Not even if death were to part me
I'd still be holding your hand ever so tightly.
Because cold hands can only ever belong to a warm heart.

Where do the unanswered questions lie?
Buried deep inside our minds do they hide?
Do they haunt us with endless curiosity?
The questions that haven't been asked because we're trembling at the thought of what the answer may be.
Searching for something that could  give us a reason as to why we're here, but what if we're only here so we'll never know why we were placed here?
We've created so many things with only our bare hands.
We've destroyed entire cities with our bare hands in less then a day.
We've only began to reconstruct our creations and repeat the cycle of these ways.
Creation, destruction, and reconstruction.
When can we realize the errors of our ways?
If only we could stop and try to find an answer.
Among all these unanswered questions.

If the darkness is to paint itself on the glistening horizon as the sky turns to all different hues.
Then how come we can't rid ourselves of the skeletons in our closets?
The Angels in our dreams are drowning as the monsters under our beds pull us from our sleep.
When life creates the most extraordinary things, that death will always hold close. We can't create peace, but the impossible is seemingly possible if we were to only try.

On this porch I feel like reminiscing.
With an old friend about all the times we've shared.
It's a bitter winter night and the clouds on my breath hold a scent so familiar.
All those empty promises, the shared cigarettes that burnt the cement between you and I.
Kisses with nicotine breaths, burning cigarettes between our lips as we played cards.
War would be played for hours on end. Till we realized that there was no cigarette to calm these waves of emotions that overflow within us.
Last year on a night like this we were bundle in a blanket talking about where we'd be a year from then.
Apparently neither of us were close to the truth.
Our last cigarette is still crumbled in the Altoids Ash tray.
I'm here on this porch with an old friend, and you're not here to share this moment with me.
A bottle of ***** and some cigarettes are here to help me forget.
That this old friend is my worse enemy, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that maybe till death do us part is all a lie.
Because in this moment it has never seemed that you and I aren't so far apart if death could only come and take me as well.