A million miles over
Cities toppled over like broken glass,
Raging waters with pointed teeth,
Familiar hands lost to the journey,
And hardships nobody on this
Seemingly godforsaken planet
Deserves to endure,
And at the very end of the very last mile,
What right do you have to say,
"You are not welcome here"?
Have you seen the fire that burns
In the orphaned children?
Have you seen the blood of your loved ones
Spilled across your feet?
Have you faced death in the eyes and
Felt his presence in your shadows?
Or have you instead,
Thought the valiantly wandering refugees as
A threat to your quiet life?
I ******* dare you
To look their people in the eyes and tell them
They could be suspected of being terrorists.
I suspect them of being nothing but humans,
Because assuming the worst from not one, but
An entire population--
What kind of logic is that? And
What kind of heart do you have that cannot see
People in need? People that need a place,
If even temporarily, to call home?
Rather,
What kind of heart is it that you lack,
That cannot find the good in people to
Cherish as if you knew their name? And
What kind of heart is it that you lack,
That cannot open your own eyes to the dystopia that is our world
And try to help at least
One
Wandering soul

your flowers are beginning to bloom
in my heart,
and i know that i shouldn't fall in love
because weeding it out will be too hard,
but alas,
your flowers are too colorful
and aromatic and
captivating,
i can't help but
lose myself in you.
and i want so desperately to
brush your petals softly with my fingers,
but i almost would rather
watch from afar
in fear of ruining the entire garden.

and i don't know if you're much for gardening
but if my flowers sprout within you,
let me know

a lovely girl
must be proper
but absurdity lies
in between her precious
smile and her breathtaking
poise and her scrumptious
hips and her plump
******* and her delightful
porcelain doll legs and arms

if you consider perfection worthy
of your eye then you may as well embrace
sorrowful nights in solitude.
at this point, you're enthralled by
mere fantasy, an abominable image
of the real life woman.

the loveliest of maidens resides in
every single girl
if you have not been taught that yet,
what are your flawless dreams but
simply dreams

You are a starchild, born from
the heavenly bodies and all
their celestial love affairs; You
twinkled among the stars and
owned the universe with them,
and yet you came down to
Earth and instead took over
my heart. And you say you
don't remember any of that as
we lay under the planets, but
when I look into your eyes I
see a galaxy. You shine with
a supernatural sort of radiance
that I can't believe to be earthly
and I am awful at science but
when you speak to me, astronomy
makes sense. The universe makes
sense. And you say that, just as
birds and clouds and humans
die, stars eventually die out too.
Our time is short but, darling, we
are infinite. We've become our own
universe. We threw away our mortal
selves when we realized this and
embraced this fleeting moment we
have together; stories never die and
neither will ours. And you say you
want to take me to your place,
among the asteroids and nightlights.
Yesterday I would have said, "No,
I'm afraid of the dark" but mapping
the unknowns of outer space with you,
surely we will become constellations.
And besides, I already am in heaven;
after all, that is what love is, isn't it?

i always craved something like a tragic backstory
a picturesque melancholy, shedding tears like fallen stars,
a beautiful face with a broken heart
only one person could put back together

but no one ever said
that when you broke, your eyes swelled and became blurred
and your heart shattered like glass on a hardwood floor
you don't feel beautiful at all
you don't even feel like a star
all you are is a badly written story with seemingly no ending