I am a UFO, An Undeniably Fallen Object.

I'd crash land into your back yard,
And if this ruckus fails to wake you up,

I'd already be armed, with an arm
ready to toss pebbles at your window
and a finger ready to press play on the boom box.
but it's all too cliché, to be throwing rocks,

at your glass panes,
so I'll create a master piece that wouldn't fit within any kind of art frame,
You'll read out your name,
On the moon once the dots are connected,

because anything seems easy, even punching in craters on a giant space rock, if the purpose behind the action outweighs any and all consequence,

And honestly, I'd do anything to put a smile on your face, ever since,
Ever since I first seen it.

It took my breath away, and it felt like I was falling head over heels,
And what I feel is that you're a gift from over head, and even to this day I still try to look for your halo.

But someday, I'd like to move that golden ring above your head into one that I can actually see on your left hand.

and it's too bright here in the City of Sin to ever catch a glimpse of a shooting star,
But by far,

You are my wish come true.

I really enjoy school,
like, really REALLY enjoy school.
Aside from the insurance of a happier future, which will come in time,
there's also that guarantee of a happier time, which is now,
which is whenever she's around.

Whenever she's around, I do better, simple as that.
It's the simplest fact, she motivates me.
She motivates me to get that 100%, to do more than just pass,
to get A's as straight as Rulers used in geometry class,
Shout out to Mrs. L!

And you know what isn't enough?
7 periods in a day.
Give me 10 more commas, a hyphen, anything, to help me catch my breath –
she's taken it all, and with it she ran away.

She takes notes as efficiently as the way she passes them to me.
I'd study our nation's entire timeline, and still make time for dinner and a movie.

She makes me smile like there were helium balloons tied to the ends of my lips,  
balloons, red like my cheeks, as they touch the ends of your fingertips,

But before it can rise  past the stratosphere,
Take my hand, let's get out of here,
I don't need to be in chemistry class,
We've already taught each other that,
and truthfully my dear,

we've got a bond stronger than H2O.

So drown me in memories we've made,
and hold me under the ones we will.

If I have to be wherever you are, no matter how far, I'll be there still.

You make perfect attendance so **** easy to me.

xoxo

You taught me what it felt to be one and the same, with a girl whose smile and perfection is, one and the same.

You taught me how to wish for things we don't need, like a body to hold onto under satin white sheets.

You taught me how to feel accompanied, regardless of the lack of company. Butterfly wings, make me feel crowded enough.

...

And then I realize how long it's been since you've left.  But these are lessons you've taught so well, so I still remember –

How it feels to want to be one and the same, with a girl whose smile makes her mistakes go away.

How it feels to lie alone under satin white sheets, wishing that having you beside me was something I didn't need.

... I still remember when Alexander used to be Alex and Her

... I've never learned how to forget.

(side - a)
I am me:

Gentle in nature,

Soft spoken just as I am,

Patient with consequence,

Enthusiastic when it comes to specific romantics.


You are you:

A Catalyst, that I cannot resist –

So I will not resist the change you bring in me.

Like flipping a cassette tape over, so that the other side gets a chance to breathe, to sing out, to play.

--
(side - b )
With You, I Am ME:

Gentle only because I'd probably suffocate you if I held on tighter,

Soft spoken isn't enough to express my love,
I'd much rather yell it out to the world,

Impatient when it comes to waiting,

For specific romantics that makes me enthusiastic.



You are You: A force that brings out things I am not.

I can see it.

The Skin encasing my heart, pulsating.

It races.

I struggle for air.

I'm no marathon runner – I'm a chronic smoker with half a lung, with a heart in a condition much worse.

I shut my eyes, in a faint attempt to attempt to faint and shut myself off from everything that I have ever laid my eyes on.

But I still feel it.

I press my finger tips against the skin encasing my heart.

And I wince at every beat.

It took only a single sip.

The steaming liquid that seeps in between my teeth,  minuscule in comparison to the exhausted memories that flood the back of my mind.

The heat that soaks on my lips, glacial compared to the warmth I felt on yours.

There will never be a replacement for the comfort delivered to me by your grasp.
My hands, my fingers, that once intertwined with your hands, your fingers, hold on to a porcelain cup of memories, significant only to me.

It took only a single sip to drown me in my past.

I wish that I was braver – a little less shy. But genies are a thing of make believe, so this wish remains inside

Of my mind

It is false like the sheep herder who calls,
Out about a ferocious beast who feeds on his sheep,
Even if there was no ferocious beast at all.

But at least he cried wolf, at least he cried out.

While I sit here in silence with the worst case of cotton mouth.

I've been struck by a drought, Words dry up faster than my ability to speak.

My tongue has been barren for days, no sound, genies are a thing of make believe.

I fear what might happen, meaning I embrace deciding not to take action. But when it comes to hoping, all of my thinking is wishful.

So if a genie were to be reading this, may he grant my three wishes in the form of spoken word delivered from my lips to her ears:


You're really Cute.

I smile knowing that this isn't a dream.

I smile knowing that you are where I am and I am where you are, in the dark, under blankets, on a cloud that would have felt like nails if you weren't here.

But I smile knowing that my breath doesn't escape into the loneliness of my room, as it brushes against your neck – my kiss of air that pushes you closer into me.

And I'd whisper words like
"I love you"
And
"You are so beautiful"
that would glide across pillowcases into your ears. And if you aren't awake to hear them, I'd make sure to repeat them the first thing in the morning when you wake.

But for now, the silence competes with the crickets, your soft snores, and my even softer sighs of laughter, in disbelief that such an adorable situation has laid itself out right in front of me,  in my arms.

I have trouble falling asleep, because for the first time, my reality is much sweeter than any dream my mind can ever imagine.

Winter drops of icy dew,

sprinkle down on moments that to me are new,

The hold on my hand tightens, you're afraid of slipping too,

on Winter drops of icy dew,

lips quite pink, eyes seemingly blue,

I'll take the warmth you place in my heart and melt away the things upsetting you.

We'll take a stroll, to a meadow of white.

Eyes seemingly blue take in a magical sight,

drops of ice twinkle in the light, not from the sun, but from your smile.

It's these moments that give me winter
blushes,

Just one thought of your presence, and my blood rushes.

I'll grab your hand, to the center we shall go

To build a family made entirely of snow,

If you'd like we'd make a family of our own,

Where smiles are made of skin rather than tiny river stones.

You once asked me why I love you.

The mascara of curiosity outlined the questioning glare of your eyes, and your fruity scented lipgloss covered your worrisome words with a hint of doubt – and  strawberries.

And just as I was about to pluck the ripest answer from the back of my mind you interrupted me and planted seeds of insecurity you so desperately try to force under the earth – away from the eyes of those who live above it.

You remind me of the way you push me away whenever the going gets tough, even though together we're tougher than anything rough, pushing back harder than any kind of force that you apply on me whenever I'd ask, "What's wrong?"

You remind me of the way you cling to me like magnets on a fridge,

of the way you can't hold much of a conversation because you're awfully shy,

Of the way your interests differ from mine,

Of the way your smile lacks luster compared to other girls' smiles.

So I remind you, that whenever you'd push me away I'd pull you in even closer,

that my hands cling on to your waist, like magnets on a fridge,
and that we'd stand there with me embracing you, and silence embracing us, because worrying about words to say would only get in the way of me appreciating what's in my arms,

I remind you that my interest in kissing you, differs in your interest in kissing me.
And that your interest in my smile differs from my interest in your smile, unique and perfect on you and simply only you,
Never will it fit better on anyone else.

So you ask, and I reply,

The answer is quite simple love,
My heart is forever yours, because all of the above.

Tonight, I'm not sad enough to string together sentences that attempt to stitch shut the cuts that scatter my heart.

Tonight, I haven't fallen deep enough in love to create a vivid image of us and if I tried, its thousand words wouldn't be loud enough to break the silence that it is painted on.

I don't know what I am tonight, and  the blank that follows "I am..." will remain empty when the sun comes up.
I should try to draw even more of those, until I have enough blanks and lines to draw a plethora of Z's that I can catch, only so I can wake up to an unanswered question.

My pillow supports a head full of sweet nothings, with no one to whisper them to, so these candied thoughts will slowly slide down into the pile of forgotten things, where all the things that used to matter, find themselves stuck in a state of irrelevance.

I think that's what I am tonight,
Stuck in a state of irrelevance

When we see it, it may be appealing, or it may be appalling – but surely it is natural, an Image straight from our minds projected on the screen of reality.

-The Manifestation Of "Infatuation"

When We Chase after it, it may be refreshing, or it may be exhausting –but surely it is natural, a force bound by the Law Of Emily that declares , "The Heart wants what the heart wants."

-The Aspiration of "Admiration"

When we Feel it, it may be exhilarating, or it may be infuriating – but surely –
It isn't natural,
A feeling that, in order to make us feel like we're flying – we would have to fall before hand.

-The Paradox of "Paradise"

When we lose it, it is only the latter of all three stages before it.
Appalled at the sight, of the conclusion to the exhausting flight within Paradise –A journey seemingly destined to last forever.

-The "End"

The last second of the first moment we met, we had to catch each other as we fell, we stole each other's breath right from under our noses.

The last second of the first moment we kissed came abruptly. We had to pull apart sooner – to allow time to continue because it seemingly stopped the very second our lips met.

The last moment we shared was the second time I fell – although this time your hands weren't there to catch mine.

I shatter for the last time.

I am stubborn.

I would probably stub my toe on the same leg, of the same table, repeatedly, over some period of time, instead of making sure that said table, and said leg, never meet, my poor little toe.

Which is fairly easy, but instead, I must now walk awkwardly, because it hurts to put pressure on my bruised foot. I curse under my
breath. I am upset, yet,

I'm not sure if I can simply stop falling.

I am stubborn.

I would probably break my heart, by entrusting it to the wrong hands, of the same girl, repeatedly, over some period of time, instead of making sure that said hands, and said girl, never meet, my poor little heart.

Which sounds fairly impossible, so instead, I must now breathe awkwardly, because the bruise placed inside my chest is unbearable.
I curse at myself for breathing, I am in agony, yet,

I'm not sure if I can simply stop falling.