You are my moon.
I know it's a metaphor and
I know it's prone to misinterpretation
But isn't that what's great about metaphors?

You are the sky.

What do you mean?

It means what it means and what you think it means.

What do you think it means?

It doesn't matter what I think it means.

But you wrote it, didn't you? You ought to know.

That's the thing about writers. We write things and we don't know
what they mean, really. For there is not one frame for each line
and each picture we paint. It's about writing masterpieces that can be
broken down to different pieces. Maybe even to the point that it is
crushed to sand and turned to dust. Dust flies away with the wind and
if poetry might turn to dust, then I will be glad.

-D.D.

Why does thinking of love
Make me think of you?
I don't even get it

Why is love thought to be so strong
When you can love a pair of shoes

Why is love tied with loss
Was it asked to

How does love tie with you?

Two roads diverged in a wood and I,
I took the one most travelled by
and that has made me regret my decision.

1 am
Woke up and looked at you to make sure you were still there. We couldn't sleep next to each other, so I had no idea if you would still be on the sofa next to mine, sleeping soundlessly in the dark of the living room.
2 am
I woke up again and looked over. You were now sleeping on your side to where I could see your face. Very little light from the crescent moon hit your face and highlighted all of my favorite parts of you--Your nose, your eyes, and your oh-so-kissable lips. I smiled and found sleep waiting for me again.
3 am
I look up and you are still breathing. I smile and fall into yet another dreamless oblivion.
4 am
I awaken to myself gasping for air, and clenching onto the covers tightly. I look up at the chandelier and take a moment before I look at you to make sure you are still okay. Just breathe.Right, now I can look I turned over and all I could see were your legs, which hung over the side of the sofa. Your soft porcelain legs looked quite cold. I took a moment to appreciate your soft legs before I pull your cover down a bit. You held on tightly and softly said, "Rach..." before I smiled and let go. I slowly put my head down again and fell asleep once more.
5 am
I remember waking up again, but this time I couldn't see your face, so I just feel asleep once more.
6 am
Woke up, but I decided not to check. I could hear your breaths instead, which is the only reason I was able to fall asleep.
7 am
I woke up, checked again, and feel asleep... again.
8 am
I awoke to the sound of my phone buzzing and my friend telling me she had to throw up again (poor girl, it's her birthday) and I looked over and saw you there. I looked for another minute, and then feel asleep one last time.
8:26 am
I awoke and it took me a moment to register why everyone was awake now. It is so early and I am so tired. I decided to look over at you, but you weren't there. I couldn't process that you weren't there in my mind, so instead I looked around frantically. They asked if I knew where you went? and I shook my head. They looked upstairs, in the bathroom, and even the bedroom we put all of our things in. Finally they found you lying on the extra bed with your phone in hand. I walked in and knelt down to kiss you on the head. You were awake and silent. I smiled, said I loved you and went back to the kitchen to start making breakfast.
8:40 am**
You came in the kitchen and smiled at me. Your hair was everywhere and your eyes looked tired. All I wanted right then was to swoop you up and kiss you passionately. But, sadly I did not. I kept stirring the pancake mix and pretended that none of this, nothing of you, make me completely and utterly insane inside.

The butterflies kept flapping and the fish inside of me kept swimming and every single part of me ached to have you next to me. I smiled as I made the pancakes and for some reason, I felt as if it were just the both of us there together. You sitting on the chair smiling at me and me pouring the mix into the pan. It felt like the perfect morning, even with all of my other friends here as well.

I fell in love
With your
Laughter
And your smile
Your jokes
And stories
I fell for
The way you
Wrap your
Arms around me
The way you
Comfort me
And the way
You make my
Heart flutter
I fell
For the way
You looked at me
And the way
You cared
Unlike any other
I fell for
The way
You made me happy
And I fell
For your
Craziness
Because
You fell for mine.

A soft word on parted lips
Gentle, warm and moist
Chocolate brown eyes that understand
Light kisses against my skin
that hint at something more.
I feel her laughter that bubbles forth
and we're both smiling,
it deepens and an unspoken tension
flits between us, luring and tempting.
begging to do more.
My lips part willingly for her
And I taste her on my tongue.
She is sweet and glowing against me.
The heat rises and ebbs,
touches become wanton and frantic
I plead with her to give me my desire.
wish granted
sleep stole over her after the deed,
but I am wrapped in her and awake.
My fingers slip through her hair,
at some attempt to tame it.
Giving up, I chuckle
and kiss her.
Just her.
Her forehead, her hair, her nose, her eyes, her cheeks.
And lastly her lips.
My love and my life
*how I love you.

I'm afraid to stand out
And be different.
What if I look odd?
What if I'm judged?

I'm afraid of using big words,
Even though they sound beautiful.
What if I use it wrongly?
I'll be thought of as a fool.

Most of all,
I'm afraid
Of telling you
That I love you
Everyday.

It's meant to be a cute,
Sweet gesture.
A way of
Reminding you
You're the best thing
In my life.

But what if
It slowly becomes a mere routine for me?

Worse still,
What if
One day
Your reply is,
"I don't, anymore."?

This poem is for the beautiful boy
That makes my heart jump to my throat
And to this day makes me stutter and choke
on my words

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Whose happy golden eyes
That will someday bring my demise
are so alluring

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Who doesn't like to read
But tries to understand my need
for books and poetry

This poem is for the beautiful boy
That loves the ocean, sea, and lake alike
And cannot picture life
without me or water

This poem is for the beautiful boy
That never fails to make me smile
And makes me laugh when all the while
he wasn't even trying to

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Who knows what to do when I panic
Who tells me to breathe and shut out the static
of the rest of the world

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Who laughs at his own bad jokes
That somehow help me cope
with my troubles

This poem is for the beautiful boy
That's much too tall for me
Towering at six-foot-three
I stand on my toes

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Who I don't deserve to keep
And doesn't know what a relief
it is to have him

This poem is for the beautiful boy
Who can make me forget
Everything with just one kiss
leaving me wanting more

This poem is for the beautiful boy
This poem is for my beautiful boy

I need you most when it's quiet
When there's nothing on my mind
And you.
These are the instances,
To have you close
Within reach
My fingertips feeling your warmth
These are the instances
I want you most
Not when it's dark
Not when I'm sad
Or happy or angry,
Not when I'm lonely
Not when it's sunny,
But when it's quiet.

-D.D.

Every thought I have is fuelled by you.
You're my sun during the day.
My moon at night.
And neither could exist without the other.
Just like us.
And I love you.
I hate to admit it and so I don't.
But I need you.
And you are the night sky and I am the stars.
And I can't shine without you.
You complete me.
You are me.
And I am you.
We are one.
If I could steal a star from the sky for you I would.
And you make me feel so high I can almost reach.
But I'd rather be back down on earth with you.
The beat of my heart intensified by my feelings of love for you.
So much love for you.
Adoration.
I'm in awe every time I see you.
And this love will never fade.
Because when a writer falls in love, that story never dies.
I skipped so many parts of your story and I missed you.
I missed us.
I can read you like a book that I want to rewrite with me on every page.
And I know I make you feel like the villain sometimes.
I expect the worst.
I'm afraid to lose you again.
I hope for the best.
But life has a habit of getting worse before it gets better.
Getting harder.
Hold on for me.
We can write our happy ending together.
And you can fall asleep in my arms each night to the sound of the poetry that my love for you has created.
I was made for you.
And you fit me better than anything that was made to measure.
Your hand fits in mine like the piece of my heart that I gave to you used to fit inside my body.
The part I watched you walk away with.
But you came right back.
And you can keep it.
Take it all.
For as long as I can keep you and beyond. My heart is yours.