My deepest feelings and thoughts;
I put into words.
Intricately woven
into lines upon lines,
stanzas upon stanzas.

If I were to write poetry
for the rest of my life;
Then if I am old and gray,
everything will be stripped away.
Until I am stark naked, completely bare.

You could see everything
inside me, like a showcase.
All of my bones and nerves, singing,
tied together by words like a maze.

And if I were to say
what I'm made of,
I'm made of science,
history and poetry.

-m.b

Don't worry yourself
think of the exploring you'll do alone
no one to drag you down

alone
alone
the word rings around my head
the most depressing decibel I ever heard.

No one to drag you down because
you have SUCH an imagination
how could this POSSIBLY be a bad thing
look in the dictionary under independant; you're the definition.

definition however
finds no hold in a mind made only of galaxies
the expanse is endless
thought can stretch so thin
I lose the beginning of an idea into space
and end up floating in the quiet vacuum of my head

I needed you
to be
the corners of my mind
a framework
to attach my grandiose ideas and give them meaning
to know
that I am more than just synapses
firing at random  into the dark
that I am a physical being.

I needed you to hinge me to reality,
because otherwise
I am just stardust and matter
trapped in a skull.

Another year comes to pass
And I turn inwards to reflect.
My fragile memories seem of glass
And I search for moments to regret.

Yet as much I seek greener grass,
An involuntary gratitude I beget;
For this lesson isn't found in any class:
That this fleeting life is all we get.