They lie amidst
Twisted sheets
Legs entwined
And cigarettes in hand.
As the moonlight
Casts a glow upon her skin
He smiles to think
What fun it is to sin.

Someday I will show you
all the words I write
and that is how
you know I love you

If only we loved wisely,
we had so much to learn
but like eager youths
we raced ahead too quickly
opening the pages of our
love story, skipping the
prologue to the best parts

That dark boy in the back of the class
Always drawing his feelings away
But over time his sharp pencil dulled,
He didn't feel the strength to draw anymore
So his drawings got sadder, darker
He felt the pencil was worthless eventually,
And threw his pencil away.
Though this story may be true,
**What if I told you, the pencil was himself too?