She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home

She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******

She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree

She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away

Have you ever stumbled upon someone life-shatteringly special?
You lose your breath and can't think straight.
But somehow they've stuck around.
Feeling like a stunned vegetable to your innocent charisma.

Like divine intervention we met in the most unlikely of ways.
We hit it off and spent hours together, confined and stressed.
How did we get along so well?
How did we manage to learn more together than alone?
How did we manage to find each other in this big world?
I'll always wonder if there is more to this story.
Answers to my plaguing questions that rule my emotional state.

I don't know how to describe what it is I feel in a rational way.
It doesn't serve rationale.
Writing it all down or saying it only compounds how crazy I must sound.
But I'm not a loony bin. On the contrary, you are just infinitely more special than you realise!

But I'll not skip a note nor bump a chord.
Because I see you so finely in all your elegance.
A beauty which radiates in an innocent manifestation.
I can't tell if everyone else can see it also.
They must?!
I must have no chance here.
I know I should cut my losses and move on.
Right..?
Hope to find this feeling once more.
But something from beyond the blackened ether of midnight skies and space dust tells me to keep trying.

The happening!
A blinded stroke of brush.
Stroke!
That way! Which way? That way!

Somewhere in the sky,
Above the curtains of clouds, drowning,
Time’s alone shadow.
Maybe,

The paint runs down the river’s spine,
To the beginning.
The artist drenched in roots,
A tree he is becoming.
The art indeed!

Does the wind know?
Blowing lilacs and smelling of golden dusk.
Frail and fragile like a dying leaf.
Bright like the Moon’s halo.

Happening is a river that glows!
Inside the known, just as
Inside the unknown.

You pull my strings and push my soul
You pour you heart into mine like a bowl
You hold my hand and say it's okay
You tell me this at the end of everyday
We hold our heads into the sky
We'd look up like it's a our time to die
I looked at you and went for a kiss
I walked away slowly because I was dismissed
I open my quickly filled with tears
It was only a dream, only a dream so very sincere
After that night I'll never be the same
I will have a different image of you in my brain

Life has a funny way of working out
For example, I once won $100 on a scratch ticket and in the exact same hour a rock hit my windshield
It cost me $100 to replace it
When I met him
The universe was aligned
The stars hung themselves in constellations only we could see
We spoke a language all our own
And the razor blades that consistently sliced through my sanity became dull
Flowers grew from the cracks in my sidewalk
His voice was a song that I always wanted to listen to
With him by my side the world was a place that I was no longer afraid of
But life has a funny way of working itself out
Fear was like the Berlin Wall
Built overnight
Separating our hearts from ever beating together ever again
And I miss him
I miss him so much that I joined tinder
I miss him so much that I deleted tinder
I miss him so much that my recent ****** partners miss him
I miss him so much
that I'll look at pictures of deceased family members just to try and miss something that's actually gone
I miss him so much that I hide in the back corners of coffee shops and libraries just to be as invisible as he makes me feel
I miss him so much that I prayed to God to let me have him back
But even God was too busy to answer the phone
I wish I was a number on the clock so he would always have time for me
I wish I was a chapter in his text books so he would always have to study me
I wish I was the nicotine in his cigarettes so I could live in his resin lungs
But life has a funny way of working itself out