I now understand the time of the Renaissance,
Where the clouds painted across the sky were strung of gold,
How the sky was painted by Michelangelo’s hand,
Where the cherubs danced and sang amongst the fluffiness of the timeless sunset.
I understood the dream of the gods painted in soft lights and surrounded by gold,
I began to understand the offerings and the worship to the creatures that blessed us with the sun and sky.
I started understanding when the sunset before us stretched into forever when I looked over and you were painted in those golds,
Those soft rays of peach and marigold.
To feel effervescent in a moment that made me feel warmth and love,
To know your name and heart in the ever increasing stretch of sky,
Is like painting the clouds so I can have an excuse to gaze upon your face while you watch in awe of the colors made just for you.

I am self destructive.
I am abusing the body I occupy and yet I am guilty of it.
I throw myself into the abyss at any inconvenience,
Consume liquor until the rooms spins,
Inhale smoke until my lungs are black,
Until I ache from throwing up,
Until I'm sobbing so hard my eyes swell.
I love the thrill of the pain and yet,
I yearn to be away from it.
I am yet again drowning in the undertow,
With only myself to blame.
Dragged to the depths of self mutilation,
I only have the ***** and cigarettes for comfort.
How ******* poetic of me.

I will always be in love with your light.

To be loved is wild, dangerous, and carefree.
To love, it is soft and gentle.
To love from afar, it is bittersweet, lonely, and all the more enchanting.