stand in the kitchen
with your arms on my waist
whilst pouring my thoughts
into your capable mind,
with no need of worrying
about who will clean
up the spilled soul
that remains on the tiles.

yesterday's pain
could be tomorrow's
grace.

You just have to
wake up and find-out
for yourself.

The rain is running down
My window pane
Like the tears that
Are falling down your cheeks
It's painfully beautiful.

I hope the rain stops and the leaves change from green to red for you.
I hope the fog fades and the sun comes out to shine down on you.
I hope when the morning rises and you're tired eyes awake you feel peace...

I hope the night stays a little longer and you find that sense of adventure again.  
I hope your eyes stop hurting and your lips stop cracking from the days you've been crying.
I hope when the morning rises you feel love again.

I liken our young teenage writers here to rose buds
Then visualize those rose buds in full bloom

i just want
to be with You,
to be alone,
to walk with You
and to hear the
gentle whisper
of your voice.

Your smile is the poetry
I was never able to write
For it never had words
An honest expression of your soul
Unmatched radiance across your face
Poetry which is most eloquent
Recited from your heart to mine

When he talks, I can hear it.
Every syllable, I can hear it.
Every time his tongue whips the back of his upper teeth I hear it.

When his lips are shooting arrows, slicing crimson haze I hear it,
hear the anguished rumble of Venus birthing stellar symphonies,
and when his vocal cords are trembling do I hear this convocation.
As the sun begins to cry, do I hear of merciful heavens.
When fiery lips blast melodies that stun my ears and sear my tongue,
do I hear the distant quell as nebulae shiver crack and burst.

He slaughters constellations with prose.
He ignites the universe with murmurs.
He pulls Andromeda in speech,
every astral breath and screech.