There is the immediate air out of which you breathe
And those who live for it
And those who see the effects of the breeze
And attempted to speak for it

When I think back now
To a time when time was not
Of such vibrant thought
And I feel the weight of be
In this world of being now

(Where I Am More Aware, Now)

The leaves are dying
Drifting down like falling snow
To see the veins which grow thin and pale
To hear their weathered limbs of grey cold
And when his bark and bite is no longer feared
And when her comfortable canvas is stripped away
No branch to catch a falling hand
No root to stretch nor wrap and rest
Too many names already carved
With no new branches left to trim
The colors once which changed with age
Now stay the same till clearer days
Perhaps the spring will no more grow
Perhaps this ends a present-day
But the leaves are dying ever still
And what's more concerning is
How they know, it is their way

When given a choice
   Between Beauty and lust
Let Beauty win out
   Lust is never enough

Which is louder
   ?  

   The silence
   You create
   For yourself
   ?

   Or the silence
Left
   When someone else
   Doesn't want
   To create
   With you
   ?

The dream of being
One day more
(than you already are)
Is **** of sleep
And of walking nowhere

Yes, self
Reading is romantic still
If it's done by a supermodel
Sure

Noone is coming to turn your eyes like pages
Sorry

Expressions cannot run like ink
    They can only hold fast
To the paper of memory
    And at our feelings . Grasp
For just a moment to pass
   And think though they will not last