My blood runs red when I bleed
You seem so full of hate even when you breathe
You don't seem to care
You seem unaware of the pain you inflict on others
You might suffer from a deceased mind
You might discover some day that it is effecting your insides
perhaps it might lead to necrosis
I wonder when you bleed does your blood run Blue instead of Red
I somehow feel sorry for you, a part of you already seems dead

Each day my heart grows more fond of the way you love me
I find myself constantly in awe of how phenomenal it is to be loved by altruism itself.
You have redefined beauty for me.
Because it is no longer just the perfection in your body.
It is not how perfect your hair always looks.
Not just how much I love your style and the way you dress.
The way your fragrance makes me weak at the knees.
No, Beautiful has turned into a word defined by complete.
Something that is all encompassing.
Beautiful has to do with your always loving heart.
Your complex and constantly working mind.
The voice that will forever change this world.
Beautiful has become something so much deeper than appearance.
It has become the hearts that will benefit from your presence
Beautiful is a reminder that we can always do things a little better.
I don’t think I can simply use the world beautiful the way I use to.
It has become a word specifically designed for you.

when i say i love you,
please belive it's true.
when i say forever,
i mean i'll never leave.
when i say good bye,
please don't cry
cause the day,
i do is the day i die.

Your smile makes me smile,
Your laugh makes me laugh,
Your eyes are enchanting,
You make my thoughts seem daft.

Since the day I first laid eyes on you,
My feelings grew and grew.
In that first conversation my knees clicked and clacked,
And those butterflies flipped and flapped.

And as I spill these simple rhymes,
My mind goes over time and time,
Why didn't you ask me to dance,
During that slow song of endless romance?

I hope this doesn't seem to creepy.
Please don't think my thoughts have flown too freely.
Just know that what I speak is true,
And that I have fallen deeply for you.

tap tap tapping
on the computer
   working
my mind wonders
   as it usually does at this time
i hear the whir of work trucks
and smell the greasy, diesel exhaust
the mumbled hum of voices
   different but familiar
paper being spit out in sheets
labeled with jumbled words
   and photos
some artwork
   if you can call it that

production
   money
from this pocket to that

the cursor is blinking at me
beckoning me to make a move
   punch a key
    or shut it down

decisions, decisions...

...my eyes tell me it's time to call it a night
   there's always tomorrow
to get this machine running
   once again.