How fickle is the word love.
That word can be murmured, screamed and written as easily as the first line of this poem.
Is love obsolete, or is that word unable to express the grandeur of this emotion.
As my body over heats and my chest explodes within, it becomes clear.
Love is not enough.
It is too simplistic for that dark creature that lives in an attractive misty material.
Rose quarts, ruby, raw amber.
Amber as old as time, buried for years,  deserted and left to tarnish and become cold.
Given a hand to hold its rough body and smooth its uneven and faded exterior, this can reveal missing pieces of time and beauty that renders one breathless.
You are my anber

I am baffled by the ***** footprints you have left on my brain.
Knocked down by images of you and I.
Tense, you ****** me I grasp my thigh, drag me closer.
My body shakes, my heart thumps as my blood boils.
I slip.
There is no arms to catch me.
You are a flaming shadow of my imagination,
That grows cold as reality hits my vision.
Down I fall, unable to concentrate as unwanted desires take over.
Let me not need you.
Let me focus my sights on pointless knowledge.
Let me turn off this need to be loved,
Let me satisfy myself.

Stuck in motion.
Falling through every path.
No control no boundaries
I see the earth stop,
But no time for the ground to slow me.
I become the particles of earth and slide through .
My way may not be paved in crystal but my mind is an arrow,
and the target is clear.
This journey is solo.
I hold my own torch and no damp weather will put me out.

Stay still, don't move.
Drown in the people,
Absorb their thoughts and conversations.
They are all one, and I am their keeper.
Learning their expressions, the light in their eyes when they feel someones warmth
The nothingness when they are betrayed.
When I look in further, I find myself.
What do they think of this person, who is she?
I am an anigma.