Your body is a language I would like to be fluent in.

Life is better when you stop picking flowers
and start trusting your life's course to come across
other beautiful meadows in the future.

you are a tiny sea shell
with the entire ocean inside it

I wish I could stay sober but you are an open bottle
and my lips crave your skin.

He kissed me so deeply I forgot whose air I was breathing

What is left to do when the only way to get rid
of the salt at the bottom of my lungs
is by drowning myself in alkaline oceans.

We worry about our existence.
When our only purpose is to fall in love
with a masterpiece produced by a God so lonely, he had to create an audience.

Theres two kinds of breaths that boys steal.
The kind that results in unbelievable euphoria,
and theres the kind they ripped out of your lungs.

The difference is;
one makes you senseless
one kills you.

In all honesty I miss feeling sober.

A decade ago the brightest minds dreamed
of being as close to the unknown as the clouds are.
Today we dream the same
but on a larger surface; the moon.

I burned maps to keep you lost in my eyes.
but you made a compass.
I blinded you hoping you would never think I was less than beautiful
but you found glasses.

I forced myself to go deaf
so i could run away from fate.
but fate started yelling
and fate got in my head.

fate wasn't silent, it was loud.
I knew you weren't meant to stay for long.
but what was i left to do
I saw you in a bright future in which I didn't belong.

but I've seen people cheat death
and if i yell louder than fate
maybe there's a chance that id be the one to make you lose your breath

I had a dream once with Destiny.
She told me I couldn't help you lose your breath
because you haven't been breathing at all.
She explained to me that you needed air

and I needed to slide back into my shoes
and stop being fooled by a ruse.
That I created by breathing too close to the mirror
making it hard to see past the fog.

I smashed all the watches I could find
thinking maybe all i needed was a little more time.
but fate brought you a sun dial.

Fate was the parachute in a falling plane ,
and I was the angry ocean reaching so high
just to taste the fabric of your pants

I'd like to meet you the way our lips have.
I'd like to speak to you
because your body is a language I want to be fluent in.

our lips parted and you left me in addiction.
I've been ordering skin and tonic every night,
I kiss people so hard hoping to forget whose air I'm breathing
because  I just might not recall that you are all i want to inhale.

I don't think you understand
I would reinvent the world for you.
Just so we could live in places
where our hands would fit into spaces
like puzzle pieces, and magazine faces.

But I cant, my sand castles dry out and
blow into the wind disappearing among stardust.
I can not stop the red sea from parting,
just like I can not stop our lips from parting
and unfortunately I can not stop your soul from departing.

What is the use of dipping your finger tips into someones heart
before you have melted your skin into the oceans of the world?
why would you lose yourself in someones eyes when you could
float in between the waters horizon and the dawn of the atmosphere?

Can you love someone when the soles of your shoes have been worn to voids
or do you have to wait for your human soul to be stripped of every meaning as well?

Because I have been running endlessly to catch a glimpse of your life
and its broken my heart and torn my shoes.

life is too long to spend your days asleep and then pretending you
blinked to find yourself lonely in routine.

And that is why I do not waste a second walking to the parking lot to
get your wallet. Instead I run.
Because i can travel the world and i can grab
the soil of a thousand different mahogany lands
but I will always find my hands
guiding themselves through the dark back to your body.

life is too long to spend your days asleep and then pretending you
blinked to find yourself lost in a future that came to soon.

And that is why I spend no time asleep. Instead of watching the sunrise
I watch you begin to wake up because because the sun does not rise
until you smile for the first time at 8 thirty AM.

The only travel I need is that of the vibrations of your laugh sailing from
your lips only to vanish into the memories I have kept so well in my mind.
The winds of the world could never whisper
sweeter things than you could on a drunken,
sleep deprived night.

I do not have to wait for the night time so I can wish on stars with you.
Partially because I have nothing to wish for,
as every lover would say.
but mostly because if I connected your freckles to your goosebumps
I would have the entire constellation mapped out on your body.
And unlike stars Your love doesn't fall.

I do not need astrologers to look deeply into the sky to let me know
that you are the one.
Because I am a palm reader and when your hand is embedded in mine
the only thing i know is that you are my entire world.

Some people define growing up as growing into you place in the world,
but its not.

It's the first time
You realize he is not yours anymore.
It's the first time you notice your parents are not your heroes.
Its not about your first kiss but your last.
And even worse, you realize there really is no milk in Oreo's.

It's not falling in love for the first time
but falling down and watching your bruises
avoiding to touch them because with every touch
you cant help but remember that this skin was once pink
but you have no idea how it got so blue.

Sixteen is wondering if it had to be this way and leaving the room
to avoid listening to the static of broken people
that have forgotten how to channel forgiveness.

you keep growing extending your roots in cynical fields,
producing fruit that would **** you.
You build walls around your legs when someone tries to move you.
you plant your feet into cement to make sure you don't lose yourself.

You wake up to the thought that he is making someone else breakfast
and you feed on the last words he said to you three years ago.
You realize that you are breathing in the same air he is breathing out
and maybe that is something you could live without.

You turn off the lights, and you turn off your mind.
And you dream. you dream about the lies of staying young.
Waking up to him, laughing and loving but wait,
what if growing up really meant;

Falling in love with yourself first.
Painting your golden hair on a mirror just the way it is
because you have grown just as beautifully as all of those glimmering strands.

If someone tries to cut your hair, smile.
Because maybe growing up means
taking a step back to grow some more,
so fix your old split ends.

Maybe growing up means
you are the only one that can turn the light on.
maybe those bruises
are just reminders that you got up and bumped something in the dark
because you finally figured out that there is a ******* light switch.

It's the first time you discover that there are people in places
with souls filled with empty spaces, just like you.
And maybe your heroes have to grow up too.

Maybe growing up
is putting down the phone.
Not because it would hurt you less
but because now you know that
your ex lover is not going to pick up the phone.
but it will always be the voice of someone you have never known.
on the other end "hello".
"who am i speaking to?".

Instead open a door,
and let the essence of your home spill out.
Because just know it's only time until
the fragrance of who you are draws in
someone tall, and someone grown,
someone who is not afraid to be known.

someone who knows that they don't belong in the empty spaces
of someone else's heart, they shouldn't be there in the first place.
But in mirrors, in the reflection of their own eyes.
So don't breath too deeply because you might find it
too hard to find yourself in the fog you left on your mirror.

Growing up is not
turning off all the lights because you are scared of what you see
but being strong enough to know that pain exist's so you can move forward.
It's not looking into someone else's eyes to see yourself,
but looking into someone else's eyes to make sure they see you.

Growing up is realizing that
even though he made your heart beat it's fastest when you didn't want it beating at all
it was still you that carried you heart in your treasure chest to make that possible.

We worry about why we exist but our only purpose
is to fall in love with a masterpiece created by a god
so lonely he had to invent an audience.

So if every one of us is one and we are all god
maybe that's why I don't see shooting stars,
but I look up and fall in love with
every wish I will never make.

Maybe when we drink wine we lose a sense of self.
Because we are not humans,
but we are something much bigger.

Maybe that's why when we drink we get hiccups.
Because hiccups attempt to shock the mind back to consciousness.
Thinking is a drug and drugs are just spiritual defibrillators.

I got all the things on your Christmas list.
you haven't really thought of it I can tell.
Another christmas filled with regret of setting chairs for two.
*I asked for you.

I was never one for sunsets and she was the night, but the buildings could never have out shone her eyes.

In these images I see you.
I see your laugh, your smile your brilliant eyes.
what makes me hope that maybe you are not so far
is that I can hear you in the dark night skies.

they say
stars sing until they turn to dust
that worries me. because you went from human to star
and when I go from human to star I don't want you
to yet again find yourself far.

but for now stars do sing until they turn to dust
and I could swim in your voice until you combust.

the ground beneath my feet have never been so uneven
I'm starting to think I'm just a paper weight with a heart beat.

I never imagined it like this
but then i never imagined you either.
you were the kind of girl that wore glasses
so you could read my mind better

and I wore my heart on my wrist but
I never felt comfortable enough to roll up my sleeves.
but you knew that so we talked until I found myself shirtless.
stripped down to molecules only you could understand.

she is the reason i find that
if you only save yourself you will find yourself alone.
and the beauty of falling stars only last seconds until
you are left blind once again.

they say
everyone leaves a mark in this world.
whether its a scar from your ex boyfriend
or the hole in the wall from a picture you hung up
with someone you once knew.

you left fingerprints all over my skin
and glimmering foot prints in the sky.

my point is you can cover up scars with make up
and you can take down the picture
but just like the way the scar is still there
and you cant do much about the hole in the wall

you left something under my skin that i cant describe
and *******, I do wish you were alive.

The sky tells countless stories about warriors,
lovers and heroes.
Through constellations that spark
sparkling pictures made of startling stars,
I see your eyes.

I am still not sure about how I forgot to speak to you.
Three years ago I would have said your beauty
left me breathless, filling my stomach with
butterflies that ate my words.
But today those butterflies have turned to demons
and I am no longer breathless but suffocating.

Love is not saying three words for reassurance nor is it insecurity.
It is the stable breathing of the person next to you
and the increasing certainty of being loved back
with every change of season.

Being in love destroys the phrase "I love you"
making words astoundingly meaningless.
How could the English language,or any language,
mean the slightest when compared to  
the soft pecks on your cheek, the comfortably long eye contact
or the warmth of his presence.  
The man constructed form of communication can thread together
a seemingly endless string of lies, but the heart doesn't know
how to suppress what it feels let alone lie.

The heart feels and loudly expresses what it knows
in the form of piercing waves every time his hand
brushes the hair out of your face.
The only reassurance in love is the kind that is provided
by the heart, triggered by his cold finger tips gliding on your skin.
Its love that awakens you to feel and listen.

Love is heard loudest in silent rooms
where the heart beats to the rhythm of the mind.
Every thud being a new word in a language that is much more intimate than any word to escape from the tine of his loving tongue.  
Every beat followed by a relieving exhalation.
An exhale which disguises sweet thoughts
regarding the fact that your body is
a language i want to be fluent in.

Love is spoken through the soul
and seen from the way his eyes light up to an extent that shames even the moon in a dark October sky.

Love is an emotion of the heart, not a phrase.
Love is not worrisome or unsure.
And that's why when your in love and someone tells you they love you ,
you instinctively answer with
"I always knew".