Love is patient, love is kind. Yet I’m stuck in this invisible box like a mime,
deciding whether or not I’m short on time or if this is stepping over the line.
The whole truth is everything about you makes my sun shine.
Even if it is hopeless, a short run and your never mine.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. But this **** inside of me needs to be said aloud. And honestly I am proud of you whom I have found.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking. In my thoughts you are always creeping. There have been other nights where I did not feel like sleeping but with you I forget what I’m keeping and try so very hard even though the floor is wet, it is seeping; And yes, sadly yes, there is weeping.

It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. I don’t not have a notebook in my head where I get angry and hate you; They are but only songs. With different tones and voices all of which make me wonder to you am I where it belongs?

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. This you have shared, stronger than any vermouth and I am happy you have done so even if I am sad and no I don’t need proof. Saw the positive, and it’s stuck in a booth. 21 years young, but it still makes me want to pull out my tooth

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Nothing more to add for this I have.
Love never fails. Sometimes it just gets covered in veils.

There’s a lagoon in my head separated from the fierce ocean of confidence by a low sandbank.
The sand dawdles to diminish its size, with melancholy waves halting its ruckus,
Water was never that loquacious, only cooing hastily on the salty air
Quaint grains of mushy rutabaga make it hard to finagle,
Because the sirens beautiful song entices me to sink
So I flounce hysterically, unable to calm my mind.

Her fair face freckled with sand gleams with odes of despair,
Adding to the mournful steps of the receding tide.
Waters once at a healthy level, wisp the fresh sea foam away.
Jagged rocks now poke out from the depths,
The vibrancy of her seaweed hair messy and curly, shrivels.

The timid sand portrays such reserve in its frantic company,
The waves crash on cue with such force,
Predictability is only her turquoise concealment
Ephemeral brine absorbed by desire,
Encapsulated by the beige powder,
That cannot dissolve.

Funny how we woke up in the morning
and pretended that tomorrow never happened—
strutted naked in mirrors celebrating our youth,
laughing, knowing suns and moons couldn’t do the same.

We borrowed our arms from the fridge
and peddled bicycles with bad breath—
trading war stories ‘cause we knew
if we came back alive
life would still be the death of us.

Rage magmatic in this the cavern of your deepest doubt. There can be no patience here between the moments that make up the seconds that measure your heated mind. Snap-blue volts currently amplify the surge to resist. The glass will wait for your reaction. Watch yourself spring, soon, quiet to the flank; shatter and reform as expected. Touch it now with your cool palm.