Two strangers stand looking at a painting
He thinks it looks like a tree;
She thinks it looks like the ocean;
They both see rain and miss the sun.

Simultaneously they touch glass and gasp
Because the mirror squeaks like their brains
and they only just realized they weren't listening.

Eyelashes can be so crushing,

The way I look at yours and
feel them brush against my cheek
remember tears dripping off of them,
rushing off of them,
in tumults and falling to the floor
where they pooled with mine.

The way they draw me in
framing perfect beautiful soul eyes
and pull my heart strings,
and CUT my heart strings!
when I think of being gone away
with a mirror and a face you just introduced me to...

Uncertainty, unfortunately,
only gets stranger with familiarity
up to a point, where I hope it might
collapse and combine with our tears,
another color in our painting.

Eyelashes don't mean anything
except that I can't imagine
not seeing yours, and I'm scared.

Cracking shaking breaking taking
fingers touching grasping slipping
eyes connect, bodies gripping
whispers gasping particles clasping
worlds colliding, and skin
The world is skin and sin
and redemption
Love is art and finding connection
when vulnerability becomes protection
Shed material
Find your spiritual
Be your physical

Trust: unweights your heartbeats: Must.
Two become one.

Our tongues know each other like old friends
And so do our eyes.
And they speak the same language.

Our heads seem to gravitate
to the same pocket of air and thoughts
and sadnesses and madnesses

You see me in every way I
wanted to be seen
but couldn't see myself
Light feels so good after being blind!

That night when the flame consumed me
and you held me and shared my burns
I looked up and the fire danced between our eyes
and you didn't look down
and you listened to my spitting rage
and told me with your eyes
"You are beautiful."

And I wasn't clenching my jaw because I
wanted
to hurt my teeth
even though I thought so, once

And I wasn't letting you anywhere
near close
enough
even though I thought so, once

It doesn't matter how or why
it only matters that it REALLY matters

I'm happy to be a child again
because a child knows how to learn
(feelings and things that hurt)

And I'm happy to be a child again
because a child knows what it wants
(without a reason)
and I want you.

I would do it if I knew how.
I would rip this beast off my back and expose my heart, beating and bigger than my whole body
I would put rocks in my shoes so that the storm can't move me anymore
I would close my eyes and let my flesh be beaten by rain pellets, and shake as if the lightning were my soul,
And the thunder would echo with my cries in the space that stays between us
And I would stand in the storm with my heart exposed and pierce you with my eyes once I remembered how to open them


And I would remember I was strong enough to move.

Love is like pain.
It waxes and wanes
within my aching veins
and pools up in the rains.
The ground, the sky, my heart, the same.
River, mountain, woods remain.

Singing for tomorrow
and the memories that follow
shading sorrows in the shallow
Hollows of my brain.
Uncertainty, expression, life, the same.
Those that choose to stand remain.

It's these cold nights
hours spent
alone typing furiously
spewing a painting of
words of the scars on your face
and the millions of
reasons I want to hate
you
splattered on the screen

but you and i know i can't
paint worth a ****
or express myself even through words
even though they are all i know any more
because i'm too busy thinking

see what i mean