if i love you
then you're lucky
if i hate you
you're also lucky
because that means that you knew something enough
about me
to cause me to feel either way

you make my heart feel
like it's being submerged in sweet agony
and tender love

it's such a contradicting feeling
that one would think it hurts

but it reminds me that you chose me
and i'm choosing you too

Dear J
   Some things happen for a reason, but I'm not quite sure our happening had a reason. We were like the collision of an asteroid and a comet, both sailing through space in opposite directions, looking for somewhere to land, to feel embedded. And for an instant I think we both felt that, that feeling of love and inviting comfort, a place to lay a head, someone to belong to. But it seems like for some different reason, we could not keep that feeling.
   Whether it was because the alignment of universal truths directed us on our separate paths or because we were meant for different planets, I'm not sure. Maybe looking into each others' eyes and folding our hands around hidden galaxies wasn't our destiny. Maybe it was yours instead of mine. I can't tell why we ever intersected. Some might say fate, destiny. I say it was because we both needed to taste freedom and hope and most of all love.
   Our happening wasn't backed up by truths or reasons or anything in between. It was set precariously on the precipice of a steep cliff, dangling by ******* and strong set jaw. We hung there as if nobody was there to catch us at the bottom, we hung there as if we would never see the light of day again if we let go.
   You let go and believe it or not someone broke your fall.
I, however, am still falling.

A field of daisies
A field of roses
It makes no difference to me if they
Are red or if they are
White
I mean really
A flower is a flower
Beauty of different kinds
And they hardly mean anything anyway
Flowers wilt in a few days
And you symbolize our love in a measly
Plant?

The cars hiss by on the wet pavement
You stand and watch, invisible, still, and quiet.
A raindrop hits your nose and rolls off the steep cliff of your bottom lip

There's a dog, jogging past on soft paws
Water arches behind it's wagging tail
Wet fur sways under its belly

The sky is splitting above you
Lightning unaware that you are standing in the exact spot
It would like to strike

But you move a foot to your left
And it continues on with its angry rumblings
A continuous murmur in the clouds

People pass by and look startled your way
Because their shoulder happened to greet yours
But what they cannot see they fear

And the night descends as you stand on the bustling street corner
The shops close down and the lights dim to accommodate the darkness
And you stand invisible, still, and quiet.

It's strange how
A 30 year smoking habit can be broken in a few months
But an 8 month habit of loving someone
Takes forever to unlearn

be strong be weak be what you'd like. nonetheless you will still be human and you will still be unsteady, visible, tangible.
when the goings get hard and the wind seems to be tearing through brittle bones
say to the face of the sky that "I am not afraid! I am not afraid!".
the sun might dim a little and the birds will fall from the sky until nothing exists besides a sighing moon.
some say that when you grow older you grow wiser but maybe it's better to be curious and oblivious, always questioning, always wondering.
say to the others that "The world has been tough but I've been tougher" when they ask you why you are bitter, why you are sad.
expensive things will get you far if you have the money to spend but a velvet lampshade covers the same amount of light as a heavy heart, keep that in mind.
being bruised and battered makes you look used and abused and it seems like being tarnished was never a good look.
and people fall and stand and fall and stand again, but staying down was never a bad thing when it came to war and peace, sport and game.
a bruise is a flowering of contained pain, internal bleeding, concentrated blemish that spreads amongst dim-witted people.
visit me when i'm old and grey and wrinkled and tired and yelling at the top of my lungs "I'mnotafraidI'mnotafraidI'mnotafraid!" slurring and shivering.
the most exquisite thing about a  a person is their inane idea that they were prepared for the moment when the shades draw and the moon smiles sadly at their watery eyes.
the lull of the ocean will be enough to push you into sleep.

Grab my arms and pin them behind my arching back, bending and bowing towards you
Like a willow tree caught in a mighty squall

Lay a hand on my stomach, hold me still, silence my sighs of pleasure
As audible as a whisper of something to come

The feeling of pleasure peaked high and strong, beautiful and strong
Like a wave of northern lights shimmering miles above the ground, strong

I need to feel like you want me as bad as I want you,
Because right now I can think of nothing besides you making love to me

Beneath guilt ridden stars and washed out constellations

There's a lonliness starting to settle in my bones
And it can't possibly be from you
no
yet as i'm writing and praying to god to give me something to forget
you still cross my vision
an imprint against my eyelids
a flickering of candlelight perhaps
a twitching of muscle, of sinew
a small heartbeat

we used to know each other
and now i can't tell if you've become a greater man than you used to be
or a smaller boy

I don’t know if you realized this but for most of the night, I looked you; looked at your profile and your fine, straight ***** nose. Looked at the curve of your forehead and delicate indent under your cheekbones. I couldn’t get enough of this beautiful configuration of atoms sitting next to me.

And for most of the night we laid in our seats and we were always touching, A hand, a few fingers, an arm or our heads. And your warmth transferred to me, and mine to you. We were these two small stars amidst the glowing sea of city lights spread out below us. And we stayed like that for hours.

After all of this, I can’t believe that a person like me would be so lucky as to have found a person like you. Because you are the moon and the small flakes of snow that fall silently at night and you are the hushed whisper that I wish I could hear saying “I love you” at night.

Because I would say the same thing back.

A child
Has it's small hands wrapped around the throat of the world
The clouds are at it's beck and call, serving up dripping ice cream cones
and kittens playing with yarn
High up in the sky
And the wind is there to serve, to cool a sweaty face or push a small red kite
Ever higher

We are at the mercy of the storm after we lift our fingers from the gasping
Esophagus of a dying sun
Our lives will wither our bones will crumble
Because of all the rain crashing through them
Like the excess water running through the storm gutters

And we can't prevent the stars from burning out but by God we feel like
we could save an entire galaxy from the certain death of time
Just like I can see the suns dying in yours yet new ones are igniting
And flaming
And fueling
To bring this internal shine that lifts the hearts of angels
Of angels



Please
Bring your hands to your ears and cover them with your palms
Do not listen to the voices of thousands, child
For we are one people and you are one person
One atom amongst this mass of writhing bodies
Writhing DNA

Talk strong stand stronger
Because sometimes the wind will try and knock you over
Try and shake your hollow bones
Your steel bones
Your transparent frame
It will shake your roots and pull at your hair and tear your confidence

But be firm. Be soft and hard and small and large
Be everything you want others to be.

Tonight feels off. Like I do not exist. Like the lightning in the clouds could come down and strike my heart and make it feel less apart and more whole.
     The lightning bugs are so thick in my backyard that I can’t step
     outside with having to brush them off my arms. The grass glows
     everywhere and the owl sitting in its usual branch shades its
     black eyes against the green flashes.
My street gets deadly quiet at about this time of night. The street lamp hums a little and the crickets whir until the first rumble of thunder sweeps through, but then all is nothing. It stills with its grey cat slinking into the grey pavement and disappearing, looking everywhere with its yellow eyes, all sunk in their sockets.
     When the wind comes howling up the street I swear it’s crying,
     not just whimpering. It’s telling the trees how much it aches.
     How much it wishes the world would stop pushing it into the
     valleys and the canyons where it cannot fit easily.
A storm doesn’t prefer to ravage branches with its gentle fingers. It doesn’t prefer to shake my shoulders until I can’t help but cry. It prefers nothing.
     Would my house seem less hollow if I were more full? Would
     my bed seem more inviting if I knew what dreams would greet
     me?

We may grow up
Grow naive
Grow too haughty
For our old friends
We may become old
Become senile
Become too ancient
For our previous life
And the world
May die
Die with pride
Die with shame
Die because
Space has become
Too small for the
All of us
Or
Perhaps
We just change
So much from
One day to
The next
That everything
Changes with
Us
But cannot keep up
So it falls behind
And grows naive
Becomes senile
And eventually
Dies
In the order of events
That we are born
That we grow a bit
Make a mistake
Grow a bit more
Make tons of mistakes
Then grow until
We can grow no more
(Which is impossible)
Until we cannot
Keep up with the earth's
Perpetual rotation
So we die
Space needed more room
Anyway.

The sunlight filtered in waves as bright as the hope in her eyes
Clouds had been cast away and for once the blue of a new sky shone
Like diamond

I didn't think my heart could feel the flutter of butterflies
But there it is
And I didn't suspect that my stomach was capable of holding more than water
But I can feel the anticipation there
I didn't predict that I could see myself with someone other than him
But there you are..
With your long hair at your eyebrows, curled and waved
And your delicate nose that looks fine ***** and pointed
With your smooth lips that can laugh as easily as smile
You complimented me on my Sleeping With Sirens shirt
I doubt I could forget that
You play jazz like I do, you wear the sweatshirt all the time
You speak so softly as if the words you say might shatter over my ears
You should stop
Because soft words make me fall in love

my being aches
from the top of my head down to my weary and worn feet
in every spot your fingers have ever trailed
my skin feels battered and bruised
and in every spot your lips have ever landed a kiss
my bones feel broken
even when the time comes where there is not a cell on me that you have touched
i will feel as though you brushed against me not but two days ago
i am so incredibly sad and my insides hurt
and i can't throw up the pain inside my chest because it's decided it's hollow enough to make a home

i can think of a thousand reasons why i shouldn't love you
but i can only focus on the two reasons why i should

I'm crying in the dark and the lights aren't flicking on
And the monsters hiding under my bed are coming out to play
But nothing can stop them from devouring me and
I'm crying I'm crying I'm crying
There's a ringing in my ears like a gun was fired by my head
Or a bomb was dropped on my house
I can't see what the damage is because I"m too busy covering my face
But nothing can stop the shrapnel from stabbing me in the chest
You threw the bomb
You fired the gun
How does it feel to be a murderer?
I can't sleep at night knowing that you aren't thinking of me
Like I'm thinking of you
Does it hurt your chest to think that you're never going to see me again?
Because it steals my breath away from my lungs
I can't ******* breath because the thought of you leaving forever
Is one I'd rather not imagine
Is it sad to say that dying seems like a better option than considering what
We could have happened?
It's so cliche but
Jesus ******* Christ
If what they say is true
Then shouldn't it be getting better?

What if he knew about my thoughts?
                                                    
  ­                                    "What do you mean"?

I meant those ones that involve bad things.
                                                    
    ­                                  "Well, what do those bad thoughts include?"

I guess those ones that only crazy people think of...
                                                   
       ­                               "Like what?"

The ones that involve sad and love and God.
                                                   
        ­                              "All thoughts of God are crazy."

Well then I guess I am crazy. I guess we all are.
                                                   
        ­                               "And what of love?"

Forever, I suppose. Thoughts of forever.
                                                 
      ­                                 "Forever is an impossibility that clouds better judgment."

I guess I have horrid judgment then. I guess we all do.
                                                   
            ­                           "The talk of sad...and those?"

Death.....
                                            ­      
                                       "Death is for the weak. The ones that give up."

I guess I am weak, then. I suppose we all are.
                                                  
             ­                          "You are a crazy one. Different."

I get that a lot.
                                                 
              ­                         "But it is a good thing, I guess."

Why would that be?
                                                    
           ­                            "Because it means you are not afraid of those things."

I do not understand...
                                                   ­
                                      "You choose to think about that, therefore, you face the fear."

I suppose you are right.
                                           
                    ­                   "Of course I am."

Yes....of course.....
                                                   
 ­                                      "You are different because fear cannot taint you."

But oh, I am terrified.

i think the first time i looked at you
i knew
that love was possible
it was a tangible thing that i wanted
when i saw you laugh in middle school
your eyes lit up like they do now
except they weren't mine to look at
through the first two years of high school
you came to me as a backup plan
you still weren't mine
but jesus christ
when i saw your lips curve into a smile
i thought my heart was going to jump out of my throat
when i laughed for too long or too loud i apologized internally
but that only happened when i was around you
i felt like i needed to be reserved
calm
quiet
and now
i look into your eyes and i see suns exploding and imploding
and stars being born from dust
and i know that it all sounds really cliche but there isn't one word
that tells how i feel
like i'm home.

Dear J,
     What if we became friends again? What if we began trading music again, or sharing secrets, or reveling at mortal sunsets that last but half an hour? Sometimes, well, lately, I've been tempted to ask how you're doing, ask if you want to get coffee sometime. I wonder what we'd talk about, if we'd sit in awkward silence, or laugh in embarrassed stupor at the folly our cut up relationship is. Or would we just stare? Look at each other with wide eyes, sip our coffee and smile occasionally.
     Or maybe we'd talk like nothing ever went wrong, like we never stopped telling each other how our days went, or what new music we had recently discovered.
     But who's to know? We have never tried to talk again, not even said a tired hello or strained good morning. Out hands have never brushed, nothing but out clothing ever touching.
     Our heights are still finely tuned to each other, even though we're dawning on the second year of silence. Did we ever make a truce? Or did you decide that your confirmation of us never being friends again was enough? I felt so empty when you told me that; told me nothing would ever come from us. You claimed it was because we loved each other too much, and that we'd just fall into the same trap as before. And maybe that's true.
     Or maybe we would have stayed best friends who shared coffee and clothed and beliefs and thoughts. Maybe we would have gone down different paths; you a straighter one, me a less travelled one. But it would have been a path with you on it, so either way it would have been okay.
     But what if if we never loved each other like lovers? What if it was loving each other as friends, as siblings? We could have seen each other grow up over the past four years.
    We've become much more since we've last spoken. And we'll continue to change and differ as we keep the distance between us.
     And maybe someday I'll walk up to you, shake your hand, and you won't recognize me; because we've spent years shoving the thoughts of each other to the backs of our memories.
    We'll introduce each other, I'll smile and say I recognize you. You might look a little closer at me, smile awkwardly when you realize who I am. And then we'll continue walking our separate ways.
     And we'll keep the past to ourselves.

               Love,
                   Claire

If you read this know these things:

I'm sitting here eating Life cereal right out of the box and if that doesn't taste like childhood then I'm not sure what does

This cereal isn't giving me what I need: life

It's ******* 1 in the morning and my head hurts like a ***** for some reason I can't explain but it's been hurting ever since you told me goodbye

I put a heated blanket on my bed because this winter seemed a helluva lot colder than last but it could also be because you disappeared at night

Tonight is one of those nights that I can't really breath right, like there's something that pinches my lungs together everytime I inhale

Remember when it rained and we talked about the thunder and I could hear it through the phone. I don't think I'd ever been happier because I knew you were right there on the other side listening to the same things

There was something beautiful about the fact that we couldn't be more than 2 feet away from each other during class time freshman year.

It's dawned on me that we literally spent our whole junior year not saying more than two words to each other.

Remember when we used to be friends and we smiled at each other and we had conversations and we told each other our secrets

Do you ever think about the fact that I still know those secrets

There's something terrifying in knowing you have all of mine too....

I hope you've lost all memory of what I shared with you.

Maybe it will give us a fresh start.

With hushed mouths that brushed when they talked
They whispered like thieves stealing from the Garden of Eden.

Little did I know
He was stealing from my chest
With nimble hands that flittered delicately over quieted lungs
And eyes that acted like they'd seen tragedy.

And she only looked at me
Smug, grim, a hair-width's away from sympathy perhaps

But my stomach wasn't used to handling his sweetened breath
Throat constricting around a word
Oh! what a word!
One that brought mountains upon the heads of ogres
Upon the tusks of boars and piggish men

Wouldn't you have assumed I might as well be dead
Because you stole my heart as if it was on it's last beat
It's last wild attempt to leap from my chest


Alas, my throat was tied around love,
A simple word
That rained hell upon the heavens and
Dread upon a heavy hanging ruin

The woods succumb to the deep freeze of mid-winter
Statuesque trees encased in ice
Deer fur quavering on the fence tops
Skimmed from the underbellies of jumping bucks and leaping yearlings
The scuttle of autumn leaves a transparent sort of sound
Nonexistent
Water bodies stilled in a perpetual ripple outward from a droplet
A disturbance for the entire season
Constant movement is ceased with the icy breath of frost
Silence ensues

A human can't fathom the extent of the universe
Unless they realize that they are created from it

It's nearly 1 in the morning and the ***** in my veins is blurring my fingers into fins.
I can't think straight, is that normal after 3 months of heartbreak?
My lungs feel too full, like an over-blown balloon but my esophagus can't get enough air in.
Isn't there a potion to make these feelings go away?

Have you thought of me lately?
I hope you haven't because I heard that thinking about each other means that things are going to become difficult again.

My 16th birthday is coming up and I can't decide whether or not to invite you to the hellhole called my "sweet sixteen" (whatever that's supposed to mean.)
Because we haven't talked in 3 months and I think I'd miss you too much to not stare at your face from across the fire pit.
I'd isolate myself in the branches of the trees so that I could be calm enough to sleep.

Everytime we make eye contact my eyes go soft and droopy and yours tighten with every beat of your heart.
Are you emotions ******* around the back of your tongue because I haven't heard a peep from between your God given teeth since the day we died.

Sometimes the days feel sad and kind of misshapen
Like they are heavier on one side than the other
More time balanced during the morning than the night
And a lot of days when we were friends
It felt like the days were perfectly even
Smoothed out like silk across a wooden table
Like the mornings went at a normal pace because you kept me sane
And the evenings faded into night as our messages got deeper and deeper
Then the nights spread out like canvas and our dreams painted the surface
But now I can't keep up with the evenings
And the mornings don't come to an end

She had eyes like storms and
Words that fell from puckered lips
Like hail

*She was me

I know it seems overrated half the time
But
*******
It is hard to let go of someone that you loved
And sometimes I think that I'm just another cliche girl
With an obsession for acting pathetic
But
With eyes like yours it was awfully hard to
Forget what you looked like saying you
*Loved me too

i've always been a sucker for blue eyes
and delicate souls
and fingers that whispered me to sleep
on rising and falling chests
with the rivulets of breath ruffling my hair
and hands that soothed my tense shoulders
with gentle rubs and strong grasps
i've always been a sucker for boys with soft hair
and imperfections
scars like stars littering skin the colour of honey
and words like freedom and hope
that make me taste a future
i'm certain of
i've always been a sucker for boys who
tell me they love me to the moon and back
but leave the next day for pluto
with a different girl

Some things are better left alone
Like the pile of notes I have hidden under my mattress

All addressed to you, of course

Or the sweater that I can somehow stand to wear
Buried in my closet

From you, of course

And the slip of paper that has the first time you said "I love you" to me
Written on it

I actually think I threw it away, of course

Finally,
I need to leave alone the memories of you kissing me in the passenger seat of your car
And the time we picked sunflowers and pet the Shetland pony that lived next to your old house
Or the one moment we sat in your room and played the piano like we were revealing our souls

yeah
I need to throw all those away too

I vanish beside you-
a facade.
Never will the fears dull in me.

I've come to the realization that you didn't do anything wrong
You were only doing what you thought was right
And as much as that ******* hurts
That could never be wrong.

You're like a breath of fresh air

A breeze that carries hope and promise on it's currents and holds a scent similar to freedom

And those eyes of yours

When I first saw them I thought that heaven had come down to kiss me on the lips and tenderly caress my worried cheek because God was all I saw in them

Your hands are so gentle

Like the flutter of a delicate bird and the breath of a fawn as it takes it's first steps, unsure and unknowing, afraid to break what cannot be broken

And sometimes I can't help but to wonder if love is real and kind and patient after all like a blooming flower or a ripple of water

Because seeing that tenderness in your eyes is eerily real to me, which is unusual
But it's something I could get used to looking at

a friend, a smiling stranger, a dark corner waiting for the stars to come out

Death is the poor man's doctor

I'm paint on a sun bathed wall
Fading with the dust that coats there
I am the wind that howls like it misses somebody
I'm lonely too, just like it
I'm drying hay bundled in a field
Withering with the heat of the summer
And I am old blood painted on a porcelain ledge
Chipping off with each bath taken

2.22.14*
Darling, where are you when I need you most?
My heart is breaking.
I don't know what I'm feeling anymore, maybe nothing.
I've missed you for the past month and a half.
It's killing me inside to not talk to you.
I've said this all before, I know.

You said you wanted someone who cared for you and who loved you.
Have you already forgotten about me?
Wasn't I anything?
Did you actually love me, darling>
Or was a step along the way, a test ride, a pre to a post?

I tried so **** hard for you, darling, I tried.
I wanted to to make you happy so I tried to smile even though I couldn't.
I tried to tell you everything but I couldn't because you would be unhappy with me.
I was terrified of losing you.
Petrified to be exact.
You were my rope, my tether quickly fraying.
Please hold me down again.

I'm sad, once more.
So sad it physically pains me to say your name.
God's telling me to suffer for the wrongs I did you.
You never believed in God, I remember.
Do you now?

I want to know how you're doing even as I try to forget you.
One of these nights I want to call you and hear you say hello before quickly hanging up.
I want to ask how you sister is doing or if you've gotten a dog yet.
I want to know whether or not you've made songs yet or if your dad has his you lately.
I want to know if you miss me or us.
Have you found someone else to "fill" the empty spot in your heart?
Are you well?
Do you miss me?

You should see all the poems I've written about you.
People say it's beautiful how pained I sound, but they don't ask who did it to me, who caused the pain.
Not many people do, now that I look back on it.
When you broke up with me everybody sided with you because they didn't think you'd be capable of causing this much hurt.
You're too humble, too giving, to...nice.
I guess I'm alone in my standings.

it's like getting sick.
when your body gets the chills and your back aches from the pain in your lungs and it seems like all you can do is bathe in hot water and drink tea.
and i guess it's like working out hard.
when your body hurts from the lactic acid building up inside your muscles and it seems like all you can do is bathe in hot water and drink water and Gatorade.
i guess it's like crying all night.
when your body shuts down from the alcohol swimming through your veins and the red hot pokers firing into your stomach making you throw up the entire cup of tea you tried drinking earlier because it felt like you were catching cold.
when your heart tries to embed itself in the walls of your lungs and your lungs try to embed themselves in the grooves of your ribcage but what are you supposed to do when your ribcage doesn't do its job and it lets everything out and you are left clawing at your skin trying to remove the memories that float around on it.
i can still feel your lips on my neck after all this time and i can still feel your fingers pressing on my windpipe and telling me that **it will be alright

"I'm sorry darling but it just won't work
the feelings I feel do no more than lurk.
Those words we said so long ago
might be interpreted as nothing but show.
I love you, darling, I really do,
but I can't keep saying that it's me and you."

You tasted like love and sounded like poetry
    I could've sworn you had heaven in the palm of your grief stricken hand
But now that I look back I think it was only the sun
    And you must've ****** the warmth from it by the time you left
Yet nonetheless, I still burned myself on your skin

that i do not miss you
would be a lie
because i still find you in the trees
and in the new blades of spring grass

to say that my heart does not hurt
would be a lie
for it aches sometimes
with the knowledge we will not speak again

to say that i wish to forget you
would be a lie
because remembering makes me stay away
from your broken smile

but to say that i still want you
would be the biggest lie of them all
for i have found that the shade of your eyes can be found in other things
and your smile can be matched with a storm

There are tress falling down around me
I'm getting cut with their branches
Leaves tangling in my hair and getting caught in my throat
I'm gasping for air, choking

Lightning is striking the ground a mere two inches from my feet
I can feel the electricity sizzling through my bones
It hurts, baby
It hurts

I can't help but to sit down sometimes and wish
You would walk into my room, baby
Say that I'll be alright
Lay a hand on my arm and leave

There's so much crashing down in my life
But I want something solid to hold on to
An arm, a hand, a neck to drape my lifeline around
And that's just the problem, baby

I can't depend on anybody because
I always strangle the trust from them

2.24.14*
Today we didn't talk.
We never do, though.
I kept glancing at you because something seemed different.
Are you friends with Marina again?
What about Gillian?
You have a whole array to choose from.
I was just one in the deck of cards you hold.

I made eye contact with you on accident in the hallway.
I smiled real quick but I could feel that it didn't reach my eyes.
Did you notice?

I don't fully blame you  for not paying attention to me.
I'm not even a **** in a flower garden.
I'm a dust particle really.
There are far more wondrous orbs to behold out in the cast gallery of time an space.

Remember the day late in the afternoon when I bared myself to you?
I remember.
You did it before I could even stop you.
But I didn't feel completely wrong because I loved you, I think.
I let you see me in ways no one had seen me before.

My feelings were in your hands from day one, I want you to know.
Everything I had was yours the moment I confessed love.
I never told you that Josh helped me get you to say that you loved me.
Did you mean it?
Or were you in love with the idea of being in love?

I think I love you.
But we are only teenagers, dear.
We can't possibly know the meaning of the word.
Do you know the true definition?
Because not even the dictionary does.
I think I was in love with your hair or your ice blue eyes.
I loved your laugh, the slow tentative kind that would interrupt you when you spoke.

Your personality was a bit grey, though.
I can only imagine how bad I was.

In the deepest part of midnight, you walk among the hidden creatures of the wood, the reflection of their eyes guiding you through the thickets.

The deer murmur the prayers of the tall grass, their low hushings travelling across the valley and turning heavy with magic.

The owl's watchful gaze never loses its hold on the back of your heels, making sure that you stay on the path you've chosen. A breeze disrupts the pattern of your footsteps, multiplied by the possums that walk upright in your wake.

Something talks with the voice of the trees, damp, tepid, stagnant and woeful, like a being trapped in engravings on the bark left by the ants and the nightwalkers alike.

In the distance, your mother calls your name. The loam and sand has already made itself into your bed and the moss covers your eyes as you sleep.

In the morning you wake in the stream with remnants of moondust and pollen clinging like lichen to the bareness of your skin.

Do you ever look at sleeping human being and think
My God, there's a complex network of things working inside of that body to create this human being that I love and adore next to me.
Do you ever look at a sleeping human being and think
My God, that human being, much like me, is capable of loving me in return and showing the same care and affection that I want.
Do you ever look at a sleeping human being and think
My God, how could anybody be sad about how beautiful this human being is laying beside me on the ruffled sheets.
Do you ever look at a sleeping human being and think
My God, the sheets cradle this human being's face just right to create the perfect image that I wish I could keep forever and ever except things are fleeting.
Do you ever look at a sleeping human being and think
My God, I wish they could stay like this forever except that would be sad because we couldn't talk and we couldn't love and we couldn't do
Do you ever look at a waking human being and think
Christ, this wonderful human being next to me looks so beautiful as she is waking up with her eyelids fluttering and her eyelashes brushing her pink cheeks.
Do you ever look at a waking human being and think
Christ, why aren't there more raw things like this unslumbering human being with the eyes that are still drowsy and doe-eyed.
Do you ever look at an awake human being and think
Darling, how could eyes be as sad as yours?
Do you ever look at an awake human being and think
Darling, how can you handle the depth that are in your eyes?
Do you ever look at an awake human being and think
Darling, I don't think I can handle you.
Have you ever seen an awake human being after you've said
*We could never be friends. I just want to be happy.