i was not meant to run
through fire or hold
stars in my hands, but
my fingers are calloused
from trying.

sometimes i wonder if my sadness is the only thing ive truly ever loved.
at night, i breathe in my loneliness as if it was the sweetest air that could pass my lips.
i remember when i first noticed you getting tired of trying to figure out what was wrong.
and at that, the end of most days you would look for new wounds on my body
for all the times you have let me down
but most of all i remember choking...
choking.....
choking on a word i thought would come out so easily....


*stay

Controversy started over the images this device receives. Hormones control this impulse, she's making each ***** convulse, and I can tell I'm still in love by the palpitations of my pulse.

Thus, proving that her actions indicate the prequel to her return. Her affection distant but still yearn, expressing sentiments, guess I'll never learn, spoken without biting my tongue
and now it's your turn.

Conquer hearts and take over,
**** her off when I'm not sober,
**** her off when thoughts become somber, **** her off when I say I won't be here much longer, **** her off for many reasons, **** her off once during every season and **** her off the most when in myself I stop believing.

Her perfection an extension of accessible recollection, to the woman who despises the notion of wearing articles of clothing.

Not the best at displaying her emotions, so in combination the words she's chosen seem broken, unable to withhold the growth of sentiments cut at the root, and as they now reproduce, sunflowers inhabit her garden and all the revelations of truth.

Lapse of time passes, lasting longer
than activities that involved
me being on her.

Inappropriately timing events perfectly.
Summer seems to have visited me in the fall, her memories now more than ever I recall and wishing I wasn't missing the woman who had it all.

Concluding it's a blessing, for continuing to have your presence present, writing by only depending on your recollection, and since poetry is my obsession, make new memories with me as I practice the act of ceding back to a former possessor, definition of recession.

Taking [love], and together
we build, mold and shape a new definition
to the archaic word that must've existed before
Eve could even describe what she was feeling.

Absence makes the heart grow strong
and right now it seems as though I've grown fond
of someone who is just shy of perfection.  

Recollection of every memory in my possession,
growing anxious knowing when
our love she'll once again start addressing.

Count the sunsets and
sunrises we've missed seeing,
due to all the time we've spent dreaming
with our eyes wide open.

Successfully conquered someone's else's heart and
although it all starts to fall apart I wonder if gaining
the strength to ignore faults can be used
to hold up the stars.

Create the sky with the color of ink
that reflects the night and look up at it
for answers to finally stop asking [why]

Inspired by the same muse who's forced me
to abuse the pen held by my fingers, and yes,
their thoughts continue to linger on the one girl who causes
them to speak a 4 letter idiom that begins with the letter [L].

To others it's just a word but her name
is synonymous to love and discovery
of that to me, means the world.

Writing this as the stars settle.
The eve of the 25th. Heart inhaling love
letting down its armor, and I realize that without
her my organs won't function for much longer.

Out of despair I've broken
the glass protecting this mind
from our memories, as we see
each recollection begin to leak,
your thought, once again
impossible to make hearts retreat.

The explanation I'm deserved;
forgotten, as it's now stained with forgiveness,
in order to attempt a different tactic at recapturing
the heart, of which a picture, I keep in this attic.

Can you read the words
of this asthmatic?
That my voice is finally
calm and not frantic.
Hate my enemy, to it,
no longer an addict.
That to you this seems
as me trying to keep
sparks lit with static.

Correct you are lovely lady,
and if you read this in content, get in contact
with man whose name begins with a consonant,
keep communication constant and let us
learn to walk before jogging.

At the moment too overwhelmed and
if the tattooed [two] were to appear
I'd steer the [conversations] onto revealing
I'm held up in investing a relationship with fame.

The pieces are starting to fall into place.
I'd tell you in detail,
but for now I'll keep this tongue tamed.

.
i am so tired of my bones being
romanticized; being made of
stardust does not make me infinite or
beautiful.

i wish you would try just one last
time to reach out, so that i could be
the one to walk away

(i'm so ******* proud of myself
for not loving you anymore)