Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to feed your head.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where you can only go in bed.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where creativity abounds.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place where your feet won't touch the ground.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to free your mind.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where when you search, you find.
Welcome to Wonderland,
A place to feed your head.
Welcome to Wonderland,
Where you can only go when you're dead.

One by one
the lights went dim.

The hallway darkened,
as the cold crept in.

Word for word,
we wrote on the wall.

I wailed and fought,
but wrote it all.

Scrawled in squalor,
I spelled it out.

His name the same
and whispered loud,

~ from my mouth.

It is the immaculate consternation of my atrocious reputation,
for pulling intellectualism into the gutter.

For the transgressions I accumulated in a iniquitous fashion,
were merely the adoration's of rebellion.

The methodical maintenance of a maniacal mind set,
created in the interpretation of a world that fails to define me.

But I digress from my reasoning to articulate an irrefutable way of believing,
that love, is what started it all.

Infringing on the desolation of the psyche that wants to be free,
but inevitably entraps its own self.

A true Gemini fabulous and terrible, in all their splendor,
are a mass of waling contradictions wrapped in an enigma.

So to say that it is slightly genius, without a tinge of insanity,
would surely be an exercise in futility.  

There are two sides to a coin, a Yin and Yung,
the things that defines us, is being in constant change.

Intuition is strong, but decision not so great,
if I could do half of both choices,
it's a path I'd gladly take.

No longer is there hiding,
no more walking on the fence,
no longer will I settle or be a part of false pretense.

Flower, passion filled lover,
remember ever, the very first moment
we forgot our separate existences
became one, melting in a fragrance.

This is not a poem, this is a life.
I have fallen in love, and I know you've fallen in love (at least I hope you've fallen in love). But, our love was antithetic, it was electric, it was eccentric, it was modern. It was like moonbeams, it was like the pavement after rain. Our love was timeless, but most importantly, it was faceless. It was without impression, it was without imperfection.
I just wanted to remind you, that this is not a poem, this is a life.
I met you, and you met me, but it wasn't face to face. We never walked down the hallways of our high schools and brushed the backs of our hands together. Never would I be able to compare the glint in your eyes to the way the sun shined in our favorite spot last Wednesday at 4:32p.m. We never sat on your back porch, or leaned precariously over my balcony, and nervously leaned into one another. Never will you understand the trembling of my knees when I first heard your voice (this is all becoming very poetic), and never will I know the unabashed heat of your skin; or the cold of your dangerous glare. I'll never meet your mother, and you'll never meet my father (but that's okay, because we wouldn't want that anyways), they are our secrets locked away in a box underneath our separate and never merging beds. I crave nothing more than a love that cracks open my ribs and sends a  hurricane barreling through my heart. Few have tried, yet none (only you) have succeeded. The failed have only summoned a cold winter within these bones, but you struck up a blistering summer and an incomprehensible spring, where my eyes viewed nothing but random march showers.
Sorry, I forgot that you were not a poem, and this is our life.
Only upon assessing the damage your vessel created with your departure did I realize that this is not a poem, this is a life.

(a.m.) 03/12/14