Look upon him with ice
their thoughts must say.

Speak to him with fire
their thoughts must say.

Run from him with lightning,
their thoughts must say.

Yet the simple boy does not go.
Because he knows
who puts words to their heads.

Who puts ice to their stares.

Who puts fire to their lips.

Who puts lightning to their stride.

Because he knows,
one day they will be gone.

And so will he.

He stands amongst a forest of terrors.

Protection written on his face,
ready to ****.

For a girl made of glass.

Would that I could love you again.
Comparable to the moment we traded glances.

Ever knowledgeable to know,
that wishing cannot save me now.
Just like it never had.

Harder still,
to bear the weight of letting go.

Wanting all I can with both hands.
Like grasping smoke to a similar consequence.

The rest will be of ash and dust;
I will breathe nothing so lovely again.

I keep no clock,
or any such presence,
within mine own.

For I wish not
nor hold desire
to know when you must go.

You stick to my thoughts like an adhesive.
Ever wandering the canvas of my mind.

You travel at the speed of light,
through the nonexistent confines of oblivion.

Foreverness...
Without time, space or action.

The deeper I go,
to hide,
to get lost,
to be alone.

To think a thunking thought!

The closer you seem to be.
The tighter you cling to my chest.
Warming my heart and crushing my lungs.

You squeeze the words from my mouth,
without ever touching me.

The sun looses all essence of light and life when compared to you.

Like an ember among the black atoms of nothingness.

And if you were stripped of all that you are...
I could,
and would,
love you for this alone.

Yet oh how I hate you for it.

I was struck on the head today.
A crushing blow to be sure.

For any other reason,
it might have killed me.
But due to the passion I bear for you,
and the fear of loosing it,
I clung to life as the hammer slid from my skull.

Only after the do was done,
did I conclude...
That my infliction of an iron grasp means nothing.

And is worth just as much.

For you are blind to my burden...

As I am blind to all but you.

If time permits,
or if you so choose,
you may sit with me
here at the end of the world
on a cliff made of stone
overlooking the sky and the sea.

It would not bother me
if you chose to pass me by.

Many have...

But only because
they were traveling too fast
to see the beauty in slowing down.

If time permits,
or if you so choose,
We could talk the sun away,
chase it over the horizon
and into a new day.