Do not fall in love with a poet.
She will feed you galaxies
until you fall sick in her brown eyes.
Then, she'll steal the stars from your breaths,
pin them proudly to her chest,
and claim that she's the night.

And soon you'll miss blue skies,
and summer highlights in her curls.
And she'll ramble in her sleep,
say things she doesn't mean,
and write poems about
how she could never be the right girl.

But, when you think you've had enough,
her words will somehow pull you right back.
Because despite her moonlit dreams,
she's just what you need,
to fill up lonely blue lines
about all the things you lack.

I am so very
tired, so tired it is
bone deep, inside me.

it is the type of
exhaustion that makes life hard,
and unbearable.

Yet I have miles to
go before I rest again,
for forevermore

And what happens when I finally give in?
What happens when I give myself to you fully?
Will you take me as I am or cast me out like the rest?
Or will I cast myself out from you and what we try to build...
Have I jinxed it even before we started?

Miles between us.
Hours, seconds and minutes in the past and future.
Seemingly two different seasons.
Hot in one place and frigid in the next.
Have I jinxed it already?
"I miss you" can only be said so many times until it becomes unfamiliar.
Then all of a sudden, it hits the worst at night when I try to sleep.
When I can't talk to you.
When you sleep the day away and I am awake.
Hours, seconds and minutes in the past and future.

I've loved you since always.
I'm terrified of this love because I know how it could end.
It's happened once too many times before..
****, I jinxed it haven't I?
At least, perhaps, for myself.

*But perhaps... it would be wonderful.

She has become her demons.
This innocent flower.
Her demons have lived, pillaged and devoured her.
But yet she does not fight them,for these demons are all she's known.
In all the chaos they have become her home.
At least she's certainly not alone.
Its to the point now, where she dare not escape.
Her mind corrupted and her life at stake.
But its always been this way, ever since she tuned in.
When that happens they finally win.
These hell sent goblins of grief, never stopped to keep the peace.
Instead they thrived and bred, eventually consummating in her head.
This innocent flower, corrupted so soon.
Not even these malignant spirits allowed her to bloom.
But she did bloom, into a flower of despair.
Its too late now, these demons have won.
She has become the most beautiful valley of Autumn Crocus.
So toxic there is no cure.
These demonic sprites have left her impure.