The Heart is Selfless.
Literally.

When the human body gets hurt,
And life seems to be bleeding out,
It knows.

It pumps out more blood,
Stops itself from taking any of it.
Just to keep our brain, lungs, and kidneys working.

It doesn't think really think of itself,
It thinks of the needs of others.
Shouldn't love be like that too?

Home is...
Late nights out with friends.
Cold nights in,
tucked by the fire,
with hot cocoa in one hand,
and a book in the other.

Home is...
Safety and security.
Love and warmth.
Sanctuary from heartbreak,
protection from the outside.

Home is...
Crying on your shoulder,
when you are so hurt,
that you think you might just go to sleep,
and never wake up.

Home is...
Lying in bed all day,
staring at the ceiling,
and wondering why you just can't get up.

Home is...
Friends and family.
The past and the future.
The here and the now.

Home is you.
Home is us.
Home is the feeling I get,
when we lie together.
No matter the weather.
No matter the storm.

Home is looking in your eyes,
and hearing "I love you."

Home is reaching inside myself
and finding more than I ever thought possible.

Home is......
Home is wherever I find myself next to you.

I knew you would forget, just as soon as the sun would rise,
But your words, cliché and hollow, came as no surprise.
I asked but one small favor, at both break and close of day,
Just to hear you say hello, but now, hope's bled away.

At times in existence
What you feel cannot be described
The words are there ready to erupt
The circuitry laid inside
Is beyond description
You're allowed your own wants
You'll never know if they're wrong
You paint it, you say it, angry at night
You sing it til it curdles into bloodied screams
The reality is your beauty
Is so kind that it gets the knife
The tip drips with black instead of white
The pen is, it turns out, poisoned
With toxicity to life
You live hope. You live faith.
You are strength.
Yet your desire is forever ensnared
Caught in a cry

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

Paper boulders wash
            up on the shores
of my feet.

Discarded contemplation,
             no longer lingering
on pristine white.

But gives metaphors for
               reflective meanings,
another falls, washed up words.

Sometimes your heart needs to be broken
So you can see what's underneath,
To the flicker and flame of your soul
That you've always been destined to meet.

Sometimes your spirit shines brighter
Through the glimmering light of your tears,
And when you arrive at the end of it all
Love will outshine the darkest of years