You got me hooked on Moleskin journals.
It might not seem like much,
but when you consider that it's the vessel
into which I daily pour myself,
Like some bank account, holding all my emotional savings,
it's a pretty substantial influence.
So thanks.

You got me hooked on being known.
Not the "name her favorite color/album/flavor" kind of known.

The "ask me how I am, because you hear the trace amounts of fakeness in my laughter" kind of known.



Before you,
I thought being loved was like being admired but on steroids.

Now I see it's more like

a quiet walk
home from class every evening.

there are a dozen other ways,
different bike routes or
back roads you could take

but you would never think to.

Your day would be incomplete without the path your feet
first were drawn to,

you can't bear to miss it
the winding bends in the road and the blossoms you always pause to breathe in.

both familiar and new every evening.

I used to ride by every day
Making my paper round worth while,
Your beautiful hair, and your beautiful smile,
Kept me breathing the air,
Oh, how wonderful, how rare.

I would see you in corridors at school
Trying to be calm, trying to stay cool,
But we talked for hours about you,
It was then, it was how my love grew,

My sweet darling please stay here
In these memories, in my fear
Of losing you my darling,
You'll see, what you mean
To me.

I've loved you forever and always,
And you know that this is true
So please stay with me,
And tell me, you love me too?

Love me till I die
Please look me in the eye,
And tell me that
You love me too
And that the best part of my life,
Was the moment I met you.

Because I'm scared to tell you,
How much you mean to me,
Because I'm afraid you wont call,
As you're my everything, after all
I'm just fearing the worst
Because I think I'm cursed,
trying my best not to misconstrue,
I've never met a women,
Near as perfect as you.

As the blossoms bloom,
On this starry filled night,
Oil lamps flicker through streets,
For shambles lay bare scenic,
Streets fill in euphoric chaos
as this used to be the capital
Of a much more wonderful time.

Frolicking in streets,
Silhouettes follow in sync,
Linking arms and spinning,
Strong ale, bitter sweet cocktails,
Not a singular frown in sight.

Drunken ghost hunting,
Finding only the bottom,
Of an empty glass,
Ambience of undescribable wonders.

Even now on starry nights,
As I walk through the streets,
I still see silhouettes,
Of what once was,
York,
Is a magical place to be.

Give me your affection,
I'll give you love and protection.

Will I become the pages in your diary?
A breath taker created in the form of words,
a title to tell a story of a prince fighting his way to you, an idea of creativity and distraction
Will you rip me from your diary if I only brought to you sorrow
a flow of words that others won't comprehend other than yourself.
How many endings will you make of me until everything falls into place?
Will I become your final sonnet ?
Continue giving breath to your diary filled with words

By: Leory Santana Dawn