You jokingly asked me to marry you, and I jokingly said yes in reply.
We laughed about our lives, and how we promise to never lie.
You said it would be a big ring, I asked if you would love me forever.
You said until death, forever and ever.
You said you loved me, Jokingly, I said I loved you too.
You said let's grow old together.
I can't deny, sometimes I almost want to.

I wish I had the eloquence of words to utter what my heart speaks to my soul boldly everyday.
My heart has faith in you, it speaks only kindness in your direction.
It is confident that you have a powerful, wonderful, bright future ahead of you, and that you are going to do great things.
It believes you have a heart for people, and it is confident in it because you have told it things you have never told any other soul before. It knows you, and knows you are good.
It wants to always be close to you, because it admires you so, and sees you differently than most people. Some people say love blinds, but really love reveals.
It reveals the best in everyone.
My heart has seen the best in you, and wish others could.
And although it would like to hold on forever, it knows that you are not it's to keep.
It must let go of you, because your place is not in the captivity of it, no matter how comfortable it may be.
So it sets you free, with a soft sweet kiss that says more than it's lips could ever murmur.
Hoping one day, you know how much you are loved.

I want to know you.
I want to know the deepest entrails of your being.
To be consumed by the overwhelming warmth of your presence that surrounds me, and the knowledge of your goodness.
I want to give you everything, down to the deepest crevice of my soul.
Leave Nothing, untouched.
Move me with the power and grace that flows from your calmness. Consume my thoughts and form them into yours until we are one, engulfed in the power of your love. Show me I don't have to yield to my own ways or return to my old shame. I am broken, make me whole.
Come into the deepest part of me.

I am going to the moon, see you sometime soon. Off into the dark abyss I flee.
I am launching forward, setting a course, where the wind and the waves are far from me.
I am going to the cheese entrenched in the black expanse of the system.
I wish the television might give me some mention. "She travels where no woman has dared to go alone."
They chant kind words and put me on a digital throne.
I reach the crater with one big thump, with all of these holes there are sure to be some bumps.
And as I step off I see, the entire world is looking back at me.
The blue and green marble that I cherish as my home, far, far away, I feel terribly alone.
I look back at everything. Everything I have ever held dear or hated.
The people I love, the ones abhor. All of my dreams I see them faded.
The big blue ball holds all life except for me, you would think I would feel free.
Except that is not the case at all, I feel terribly, terribly, alone.
Far, far away, from home.

We always had that little spark between us,
which made simple things a joy when we did them together.
There has always been that magnetic energy between us, pulling us.
Closer. Closer.
We have an attraction for one another.
It's made public by the way we can't help but look at each other longly.
But we both know we will never be.
Because we are both smart; smart enough to know we aren't good for each other.
And even though our hearts try to pull us together, we know nothing will come of it.
We'll become closer and closer, but never close enough.
We'll talk until sunrise but that's the only thing that will come of it, and we both know it.
We have a flirtationship.
We flirt endlessly with one another, both knowing,
Nothing.
Will come of it.

I could pull up the old picture of us that always makes me laugh.
I could re-read our old text messages where you express your feelings towards me.
Or I could turn on the song we listened to in my car as it rained last night.
But I won't.
Because somehow I know you won't turn on American Mouth just to think of me.

Often I find that things happen a certain way for a reason. It might not be obvious, it might not be a planned out thing. But usually behind every little thing there is a reason for why it happened. Little little things leading into little things, that lead it to kinda little things, that lead into things that aren't so little. Whatever you do, whoever you are. Be good at it. Even in the little little things. Because, eventually they will become big things.

As I lay beside the pound the organic sounds mix with the industrial ones coming from the concrete structures not more than a few good pebble skips away; for someone who is an experience pebble skipper at least. I always envied my male friends at the river, grabbing a small rock and persuading it to transform into a water crawler as it made it’s way across the tea colored water. My stones never did that, they were determined to act like stones; sinking into the brown abyss with one big splash. The sound of the water filling the gap my stone fell into, the swift reminder I could not convince the matter to do as I please. The sounds around me now give me a peace as I hear them. The vague rustle of the leaves as a working bee buzzes through them, bravely determined to fight through the grass jungle to reach the sweet nectar on the flower that resides hidden inside.
      Nature always has a way of projecting a determined spirit; I can see it in the weeds growing in the cracks of the sidewalk. No matter how many times they are damaged, torn, poisoned, or malnourished, they always strive to grow. They have never ceased. Not once have they given up, they have a natural hope they hang onto. That they can recover, no matter how much they’ve lost. Organic life, nature, brings hope; it brings the wish of recovery, the willingness to adapt, and the ability to change. Just as the rocks leap from my friends’ hands, and turn into something they’re not, choosing to become more than a stone, refusing to sink. This is what nature brings. It brings Hope.

Enchanted would not define the emotion that struck my being when yours eyes met mine.
You peered right into the depths of my soul, and I into yours.
Even others could see it, what we had.
Your band mates kept looking at me as you smiled and winked toward me.
My friends with me on the front row giggled and laughed about how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. But I was too busy staring into your soul as angelic melodies poured from your lips to listen to what they had to said. You sang the concert just for me the other 1,000 people weren’t there.
And when I placed my hand on my heart when the lyrics feel your love came up and you looked into my eyes and did the same, I was positive my heart jumped out from under my hand into your arms.
But it unfortunately remained in my chest.
And you remained on stage, 15 feet away from my grasp.
Where you remained and eventually left.
My ears still ring with the sound of your voice as I drive home in a haze.
I hope you think of me.

Dear little wood pecker pecking at my brain,

Please stop if you care at all about me staying sane.
You are small in shape but huge in sound and your beak is pecking and the most fragile part of the ground.
I wish you would go away, or peck at something else.
Because you see if what you were pecking was to be taken, I am not sure how I could respond.
There isn't a back up plan if that rope were to break, and i'm not sure exactly how far I would fall and to where it would take.

It is the only thing in the present I see to focus on and the only thing I see worth keying in on. If I had a back up plan, sure, you could peck away, let your beak not wander or stray.  But right now your pecking at the only reality I see, so please please wood pecker would you hasten you beak.

Someday you will find me.
You will look me in the eyes, and I will just know.
No second guessing.
No questioning.
Just the knowledge that it is right.
And that moment, that moment, will be one to remember.
That moment, is the one I am looking forward to.

We were the best at nothing.
We were the rulers of lost times.
We we the saints of our own sins.
The ones that were bound in the abyss of getting by.

One day would never come.
Realization would never reach our nerve endings.
We were the best at being satisfied with dissatisfaction.
Just enough to talk but never enough to change our ways.

We were the best at longing for love, while lacking the self-control to wait.
We knew the one was yet to come, and we were discontent, but content enough with not all of the something we wanted.

We were the best at thinking about changing.
We were the best at negative hopeful thinking.
We were the best at lying around like sleeping beauty waiting to be awakened to finally begin our life.

Lying.

Dreaming.

We were the best at waiting for our lives to begin.

As I laid on the roof with my back against the shingles and the guitar over my chest, I could glance out toward the right and see dashes of heat lightening rapidly setting the sky aglow for a few short moments, while I watched the last remnant of color diminish from the cloud above me.

I wondered what the cloud was seeing, it still had the warmth of the sun that i could no longer gaze upon. I watched as it slowly faded into the blackness I was in. It seemed instantaneously after the cloud disappeared into the blackness a star was there to take it's place. I began to notice the crevices in the oak tree above me, as the twilight made out it's shapes.

The only light the earth was yielding were the few stars above me that weren't blocked by clouds I could no longer see. I looked across the street and saw a dimly lit lamp post, that looked like it could have been from a mythical time, it was surrounded by branches that it's light could just reach to outlines of their vegetation.
As I breathed in, I set my head on the roof I knew to be grey but now was black, and found my gaze anchored on one small star out by itself, absent from any other form of constellation. It flickered, as if it was an aged lantern, far way in the distance, who's light was ailing to die out.

While I watched the lantern I unconsciously observed the lamp in our neighbor's house across the street present itself, once it did a man placed himself in a chair to read, while I was watching him I began to ponder about the activity in all of the other dark houses around me,  all of us in boxes that we spend most of our time in. But then I was drawn back to my little isolated star, watching the ever so minuscule light glimmer, in the sea of black.

And as I watched, that weak star I had thoughts, I had thoughts of you, mainly of you. Somewhere, on this planet you were present. It's Friday, so are you out with friends, prehaps being a quarter back for a football team I don't know the name of, or on a date with a girl who's trying to make a good impression.
Then I pondered a thought, what if you were seeing something similar to what I had my eyes set upon. If you could be lying down, and looking up at sky, soaking in the atmosphere, and if you could be looking at the same solitude star I was peering into.

And then I just laid there, and could not look away, not for a moment, I was enjoying the knowledge of knowing we are both under the same sky, and you could be viewing the same star I was, and I imagined looking at you, and watching you study my favorite lonely star. And when I did, I didn't feel the night air on my legs, the marks in my hands from the guitar strings, the still damp bathing suit on my body, or the sandpaper like shingles that were beneath me. At that moment, I felt you, looking back. And that was enough.