It was not in the applause that I found his love
nor in the merits of worldly truth
It was not found in the praise of those above
Nor in any earthly proof

I did not find his love in the City streets
Or in bodies of flesh and bone
Nor in man's great selfish feats
Or on any earthly throne

No, I found his love right on the mountainside
And in the river that runs right through
I found it in the forest hills
I found his love in you.

I found it in the ocean waves
And in the stars above
And in all the master’s divine creation
I feel my savior's love

Of many pairs of eyes i've seen
all lack the sparkle and virtue of yours
as if the deep blue sea serene
in thy eyes to me lures
oft upon thee have I glanced
and felt the warmth upon thy skin
and from thine eyes, find I myself entranced
with the beauty that doth lie within

yet shalt thou ne'er discover
the feelings that within me rest
and from afar, shall I suffer
that we, as friends, be best
forever shalt thou be to me the pinnacle of creation
and forever still shalt thine eyes shine as the doors to my salvation

Her smile
Sends
Shockwaves
Through my body
Slowly
Ever so slowly
Pressing
Her bright red lips
Onto mine
Then
I wait
For the aftershock
Of her emerald green eyes
Lighting up
My night sky

Never had I
fallen in love
in a single
instant before
I met you.

And I fell.
Every.
Instant.
After.

These thoughts of you
Flutter around in my mind
As though purposeful songbirds
Sweetly joining their melodies
Into a singular harmony
All for you.

I hear her
In the way the wind rustles through the trees
In the noise of the sea rushing to the shore

I see her
In the blue of the sky I find her eyes
In all the beauty of the trees and forests

I feel her
In the warmth of this drink I consume
In the emptiness that consumes me

I love her
With every fiber of my soul
With all I have to give

I love her.

I'm sorry
All I know
How to do
Is to ruin things,
Like people,
And places,
And memories.

She was kind. Her smile lit up long lost love letters into pure Lullabies. She was pure. She loved deep and her eyes shone bright. She was the quintessential example of ecstasy in exegesis. The words of war were so worn around us that we carried them as our exigence. So long had we carried on this destructive deconstruction of our misconstrued masochistic connection. We connected in the backseat and in the street but hardly ever over words. She hated me, yet I was all she had. Slowly however, things weren't the same. She fought more and cared less. I knew she didn't love me the first time I found out she had sought herself in someone else's flesh. Those words ripped through me and rent my heart into a thousand infinite fractals swirling around into emptiness because that's what I was. Emptiness. She loved me like a black hole and ****** out my insides until she was sated like a parasite and then she moved on to the next guy. I stuck on however, I thought I could love her, I didn't want to be happy, I wanted to be hers. So slowly I siphoned off my soul to her as she consumed the callous conscience that I slowly succumbed into giving. I wonder if she even thinks of me. I think of what she turned me into. You turned me into you. I consumed lovers and wouldn't stick around to see their rehabilitation. Destruction. Perfect, exceptional destruction. And so I burned, and so we burned, and all those who got close enough to feel the heat from my sparks got incinerated. I was a ticking time bomb of confessions and regrets and mistakes. Then you came in. You broke me. I fell so deep in love I was lost at sea in the ocean of your soul. I swam in the ******* pleasure that was the blue of your eyes. I fell asleep to your voice and never have I felt so connected to a soul who didn't love me back. Your constant edification of this esoteric ecstasy left me so deeply dependent on your love I found myself in a lack of sleep without your sweet symphony of angelic arguments. I fell in love with your toxicity. I fell in love with the pain. Perhaps I don't deserve love. Perhaps I don't deserve happiness. You still love him and not me. I just wish I wasn't so broken. You were kind. But you killed me inside. So here I stand, an empty excuse of a lover. You told me you'd stay for me. Now all you want to do is leave. So here I stand, an empty excuse of a lover. You're leaving me, and in some ways you're taking my soul with you. So here I stand, alone. Alone and Broken and Empty.

I awoke to missing you again. That's the 5th time this week and it's Thursday. I don't know how im supposed to not miss you. I envision us in the future. I envision us walking hand In hand down life in some great ******* fashion or parade of pomp and maybe due to my gross negligence I can't see the irony in this false envisioning. But darling I can't help myself. Your eyes shine like new hope on the horizon of some luckless shipwrecked sailors desperately clawing their way to shore. You light up my life like a lighthouse guiding my boat to port in the darkest of days. Your smile is the story old sailors tell harkening back to odysseys when wars were fought over women like you. As if the beat of your heart is reminiscent to the beat of war drums of colossal armies leading insurrections against the turn of your tide. And that laugh. Concourses of angels could hardly sing such a sweeter melody. Your voice when you sing is a sweet symphony. And never has there been something so soothing or melodious. Your soul intertwines with mine as we surf the cosmos. As we push off, into this existential race for meaning, I've found mine in you. Your smile lights up galaxies. Your eyes shine like quasars. You are my galaxy. I envision myself wrapped up in your stardust when I kiss you. When we kiss it feels as though the enigmatic force of two lovers ripping into each other is nothing compared to the colossal crash of never ceasing emotional duress into the sea of our salvation that I find in your lips. For you, my darling, love is our salvation.

I mourn my ex lovers like a funeral is in procession.
I love my new lovers like a wedding reception.
I myself am broken.
Yet I still love you like I'm brand new.
But darling can you not see the cracks of my kisses?
Do you not feel the holes in my love letters?
I'm all worn out.
I'm all used up.
I'm...Broken.
Yet you love me as if I'm brand new.
Darling I will love you with all the passion and fire I can muster
For you treat me as some hero on a quest to vanquish this depression.
Every mark I leave on your skin will be a monument to the war we waged on our depression.
Every kiss that catches your tongue will be a painting mixed out of remembrance for this unfettered passion.
Every touch that brushes against you will be an insurrection in my head as I choose between morality and your desires.
Every 'I Love You' is a loaded gun and ******* I feel like pulling the trigger.
Because darling, I want to love you like a road map, and leave marks on every place I visited on that long journey up to your lips.
I love you

The barren house
Broken
Beautiful
The old man walked In the Debris
The record player
Broken
Beautiful
“I remember” he whispered
Memories swirled like illustrious pearls
Bathed in flames
The house creaked
Broken
yet Beautiful
as the wind howled like demonic wolves to the moon
The old man whispered “I remember”
Engulfed in flames
He was Broken
His memories were Beautiful

Maybe someday you'll love me.
Maybe someday my eyes will be the ones you fantasize of before you fall asleep, not his.
Maybe someday every fear shall be conquered like some great hero on his quest to vanquish this depression and keep the demons at bay.
Maybe someday the compilation of the love letters I left on your skin will linger longer than my scent on you and perhaps you'll remember these marks over him.
Maybe someday I won't love alone.
Maybe someday I can hold your gaze and not feel empty inside knowing that I've lied to you.
Maybe that's the root of all this.
That I've lied to you.
That her skin haunts me sometimes and creeps into my mind like the bump in the night and sometimes I'm not honest when I say who the 'I love you' is to.
Maybe it's because I've lied when I say it's always been you.

I'm not sure how you feel about me. I'm not sure if you even love me or if those words are simply compliant on the fact that I said I love you. Darling your blue eyes have turned my life into a turbulent shore and I'm so afraid to be lost at sea. I'm so focused on he who came before me. He was your "beautiful infinite mystery" and I'm second place. I want to love you. I want to see your eyes light up like when the sun breaks over the horizon over the endless ocean of your soul. I want to hold you close to me and feel your heartbeat like some primeval rhythm conforming my soul to your soliloquy. I want this love to not be lost among the forlorn follies of forgotten kisses or fake forged I love you's. Maybe we can make this into something more than recurring connections of skin and bone and feel something deeper then the backseat of my car. I want to connect to your soul. The hardest part is knowing you're not over him. The hardest part is knowing when we kiss you're probably thinking of how he held you. The hardest part is knowing How when I stare at your eyes you only imagine how different his deep eyes contrast mine. The hardest part is knowing no matter how hard I try I don't think I'll ever be able to surpass How he made you feel. The hardest part is knowing I'm not him when it's him that you want. The hardest part is knowing you don't mean it when you say I love you. The hardest part is knowing that after all this I may not be enough. After all this, I'm not sure how you feel about me.

I wonder if you think of me. I truly wonder if I'm the one you want. I wonder if I'm someone you love or just a placeholder for a past lover somehow still pursuant in your eyes. I wonder if somehow your kisses aren't meant for me. I wonder if maybe somehow your incoherent moanings are simply his name in an unintelligible commotion of conflicting feelings far too deep for me to discern. I tell the stars about you. I think maybe somehow the stars can understand how I feel about you. You have consumed me. Sometimes I wonder why you stick around because I don't think I have more to offer than this ****** up brain and this ****** up heart. I wonder if you think of me. I've spent countless hours thinking of you. I wonder if you think of me. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm nothing more than a footnote in your epilogue and your story is already written in his arms and I'm just an afterthought. Sometimes I don't understand why you stay. Sometimes i wonder if you realize how much this hurts me. Sometimes I wonder if you think of me. I think of you. Sometimes I wonder if you think of me.