I've never been
a morning person but
I think I could be
If I woke up to
you.

when you said you stopped trying, it nearly ripped my heart out. i guess i just always thought you'd be there. i was stupid to think that, and conceited. but i'm glad you're over me, in a twisted and cynical way.

to
me
thunderstorms
are
the
purest
form
of
beauty

i love the freckle on your eye
maybe
that's why i like to sigh
cause when i do
you look
down at your shoe,
close your eyes,
and ask why?
i say
so you close your eyes
and i can see your little freckle
i love so much

"Goodbye" he yelled
As the car drove down the driveway.
I don't know
why he would say bye,
If goodbye means
Never seeing me again.

I cry every night
Because
I miss your face.

I said
"It's over"
And you said
"Okay".
But now you don't know
if it is or not.
And neither do
I.

People always ask me:
"What do you plan to do?"
"You need a job, something
to do."

But what if I don't want a job,
but instead I wanted
to be, not do.

So I said "I'd like to
be a book, filled with
wonder and words."
"A book?" they ask.

"Yes.
Books are filled with
darkness and light,
wonder and delight."

Books are not only beautiful,
but also helpers.

I've learned most of
what I know
from written words.

Wouldn't it be nice
to be made of
some?

The question isn't "What
do you want to do?"
It's
"What do you want
to be."