Eyes closed, cheek on your chest

Those nights.. I truly sleep the best

I've noticed that,
otherwise,
I get no proper rest

She gripped for her sanity
Clinging to potions and herbal remedies

Searched for words, desperately
The void leading to alternative poetry

Never feeling things clearly
Composing rhythms more effectively

Lifetimes lacking serenity
Her words easing more than Hennessy

Masterpieces to occupy infinity
Or, at least, hold their own, indefinitely

Even to her, her muse is a mystery
Craving simplicity, not denying complexities

Finding the insignificant inspiring
A much greater fate to which she's aspiring

Accustomed to an unbound mentality
Skilled to manifest, persuade her own destiny

Success infects, not only genetically
Prophetic grandeur that she'll fulfill, definitely

Spitting out diction- somewhat addictively
By design, she's cursed as a poet, respectively

If motivational bankruptcy has been declared
And it's a challenge to see the appeal in my work
I reach up and pull will power right out of thin air
Remembering the reward will be worth all that I exert

Only the purest vibes are worth risk to invest
I've been graced with this affinity- the ability to manifest

May hell freeze before the day I'm poetically impaired
No room for rest on the way to reaching level expert
Finding solace in this ability to be poetically repaired
And I'm comforted by the pleasure provided by my efforts

*I'll find validation when, with myself, I find I'm impressed
Harnessing energies; these dreams are sure to manifest

Within this write, there are things I want to share.
More effectively, I want to express my ideas on things- both good and unfair.
Furthermore, this is for me; I'm not writing in hopes that you care.

It's so filled with miscommunication; if you think so, I don't believe malevolence was the aim
No ****** needed; we weren't meant to be more- this is recent knowledge I've come to gain
We were galaxies- within both of us are constellations we're given the responsibility to contain

Both of us seem electric and maybe that's why it had to be emotional warfare
Or perhaps the currents burned us out and now we're emotionally impaired

A temporary Romeo whose mind manufactures illusions of a ride to imminent fame
Met this Juliet whose spirit had aged and set goals of recognition to obtain
Each tortured artistically, with the unpleasant disposition to over-explain

Somehow, despite the floods of words, coherent expressions were rare
You felt unnecessarily taxed while I felt time with you costed me a steep fare
I'm intimately drained after all the internal details I was pressured to share

Ideas of romantic success were forced by naivety to be entertained
Unhealthily encouraged by all the tiny kisses hesitantly exchanged

Journey by my side to where lust dwells- my innocence used to live there
The angels we once were have been tainted by wasted passions we declared
Leaving us merciless, as ours were never the sensitivities to be spared

There was no shortage of moments in which I doubted any of it was sane
With this write, I hope to prevent the ride from being taken in vain
In this write, I hope at least a few of my conflicted thoughts are made plain..

There's a serenity in you with which I'm complacent
Breeding a peace and comfort aiding my contentment

Components of your art are delicate- that's evident
You're a mosaic- a spectacular piece; oh, so immaculate

Embracing harmonized anomalies quite chaotically

Blindly, musically, inevitably inclined to monstrosities

Naturally-inherited higher probabilities of wild possibilities

It goes without saying- we're immune to the contagious monotony