Why must a poets' mind arise,
When the sun and moon align?
4am knows all,
And insomnia resolves,
All of his secrets,
And he prays that she will keep them.

I sit watching the clock.
Restless. 30 hours. No sleep.
I cannot go back to that place.
I cannot let my mind take over.
I cannot let my subconscious,
Reignite itself and blaze,
The images back into my head.
I cannot venture into my own mind.
So I stay awake for as long as possible.
Because I fear sleep.
I fear the nightmares.

Close is never close enough,
Forever is much too short,
"Love" is an insufficient term,
To describe you and I.

We are forever embedded in each other,
Whether physically or not,
You will always be part of me,
The best part.

Your fingertips etch memories,
Into my skin.
Your lips engrave my body,
With nothing less than perfection.

You rooted yourself,
In a place much deeper than my heart.
And blossomed more quickly,
Than I ever could have imagined.

Your words linger in my mind,
More often than my own thoughts.
And your image is constantly,
Replaying itself on repeat.

Your smile is the brightest light,
I have ever seen.
A much needed remedy,
In such a dark, dark world.

Your hair is entangled,
In my broken heart.
Keeping it sound,
And wound together.

Your eyes see things in me,
That I knew not to exist.
As mine see things in you,
That were once thought a myth.

"Love"? No...
That term is insufficient.
This requires a new term.
For we have created something new.

Nothing means anything anymore.
Because you are everything.
And everything is you.
Therefore, everything is mine.

So yes... let us sift through the ashes.
I will follow you through revelations.
I will burn the world myself,
If that's what you ask of me.

Close is never close enough,
Forever is much too short,
"Love" is an insufficient term,
To describe you and I.

I see your words,
They explode from your pen,
And attack whomever looks upon them,
As if a rabid chimera.

I see your words,
And I feel the pain,
endured upon writing them.
Writing with a writhing wrist.

I see your words,
And I am frightened by them.
I see them morph into monsters,
Right in front of my eyes.

I see your words,
And they haunt me.
They follow me everywhere,
Reminding me I can't make you happy.

I see your words,
Unmasked and raw.
But I must master the art,
Of maskery and disguise myself.

I see your words,
Float from your mouth,
Jagged and angry,
Hoping you do not jump from the cliff you created.

I see your words,
And they inspire me.
So now it is I,
Writing with a writhing wrist.

Jotting my passion down with fury,
Creating a fire formed from phonetics.
Angry that I am fighting for an impossibility.
Angry for not being enough.

I see your words,
And they sting like the truth.
They singe my spirits,
And put shackles upon my shins.

I see your words,
And I am captivated-
No, better yet, enslaved,
Never to be freed from them.

I see your words,
And they change my world.

I am not perfect.
I am nowhere near perfect.
I simply play the part,
But only for you.

I try to be the best.
I aim for perfection.
But like Cupid,
My marksmanship is poor.

I will always fail,
I will always be,
This same imperfect entity,
All that is yours.

If imperfection,
Is perfect to you,
Than I shall put down my bow,
And aim no more.

I am not a masterpiece,
I am a forgery,
Created by the perfect artist.
You.

I apologize for my texture,
The flaws that give me away.
For to an expert,
I am nothing but a replica.

To an unlearned eye,
I may be something,
Born of the renaissance,
Yet I am nothing special.

I was born of this age.
An age where an artist's ideals,
Are formed from past works.
And I am nothing but a forgery.

Not a forgery of Da Vinci or Michelangelo,
But a forgery of these new age artists.
Only a forgery of an idea's idea.
Nothing more.

Ha. Your doubts amuse me.
And your accusations are entertaining.
To leave you is as much death to me,
As it is to you.

I feel no obligations,
Except for that of fulfilling my duty,
As your partner.
That's what we are, right? Partners?

You are my better half.
I see in you,
All that I've failed to achieve.
All that I've failed to become.

I lie not when I tell you,
Your love is reciprocated.
I lie only in wait,
For you to realize all that I am.

...Or all that I'm not.

I know the pain of unrequited love.
And also of losing one I loved.
But this is not the same.
This is requited and real.

Doubt us not.
For my intentions are not pure,
But good-hearted.
And I intend to be here for a long, long time.

I've felt what it is like without you,
I've been forced to imagine if you were gone.
And I could not bear it.
So why would I bring it upon myself?

I took that vow when I spoke those 3 words.
Not as an obligation,
But as a privilege.
And that is a vow I plan to keep.

You're a part of me now.
The best part.
I need you,
Much more than you need me.

I've seen your faith quiver,
In many things.
But I do not, will not,
Be one of those things.

Have faith in me.
Have faith in us.
For I love you,
And you love me.

What else could we possibly need?

"I love you,"
Is not a greeting, nor sign of affection.
For these things have limits,
And Love is limitless.

Not bound by time,
Nor reality.
Love has no boundaries.
Nor explanations.

Love is not bound by age,
Nor species,
Nor Gender,
Nor words.

"I love you,"
Is not a greeting, nor sign of affection.
For these things have limits,
And Love is limitless.