why do we censor love more strongly
than we censor violence?

When you and I kissed
You were made of moonlight.
We shared a sweet embrace;
Your face was so lovely
Your eyes had such beauty
Your lips were so perfect
And I was made helpless.
You and I drew closer
Your breath was sweet fragrance
Then our lips met gently
The touch was pure music.
We held that kiss ageless,
All time was a moment.
The light in you faded
Then I woke up crying
With tears on my pillow
A soul in the darkness.
I know you will refuse
I know I will offend
No, this kiss won't happen-
Not when I am awake.

gentle rain,
flavouring the night
with earthly spring scents,

soak this land,
make it pregnant

- a marsh
or a pond,

white nenufars,
damselflies,
fireflies,

shimmering glows
for blinding the doom...!

We met when I was very young, and I loved her in an instant. Everything about her was magical; the touch of her skin, the words on her lips, and particularly, the way I could talk to her. I could talk to her like I could talk to no one else.

My mother introduced me to her, in the playtime hours of my youth, and I was quickly enamored. She was fun and unique and something I could make all my own. We ran together for hours and hours, laughing and crying and feeling everything life had to offer. Even as I grew older, she was always there, making me squeeze out every bit of life I had in me and make me taste it. She was beauty in sadness, in a world other than my own, but I fought with all my might to spend if only day on her planet. We were not in love, but we loved as if in love, with all our hearts and all our tears. There was not a romance between us, but I was hers. I’d like to think that in some ways, though she was ethereal and grand and far too good for me, I held a little bit of her too.

I never quite knew what led me to her, be it fate or destiny, but once I found her, I knew she was where I belonged. She was home. I could walk a thousand miles, and maybe even a thousand more, but I’d still belong as long as I was beside her.

She’s had many who loved her, over decades and centuries, but somehow she was still innocent and new to me, and while we grew up together, she stole my heart more than I could ever fathom. She was there when my brother died, and those times when I was abandoned by the persons I loved most, and when the shackles of madness caved in on my soul, she was there. There are a few who love me and stand by my side, and I adore them for it, but none stood by my side like her. She has never left me, and I hope she never will.

When I lose my words, I look to her. She is the solace in insanity, the wonder of my wonderland. I can always feel the beating, the hands on the door, begging to break me, to shake me, to destroy all I have ever fought for. It’s in time with the beating my heart, because god only knows it’s my own hands beating. But in the darkness, she holds my hands tight and begs me to stop the destruction and saves me from whatever I am.

I’ve changed many a time throughout my time, hell, I’ve changed at least three times this morning, but she is always there to care for me regardless is I’m up or down, sad or mad, or simply insane. She is a rock, no, titanium, something not weathered much by time, just always there, always watching, always caring.

She is my purpose, she is my soul, and though those statements seem outlandish, I truly believe them. I never would have made it to today if it wasn’t for her. She is my love and my writing. And now, here we are. On the precipice of the universe, and she’s offering me all I could ever dream of. My future was always a mystery to me, but now with my eyes wide open, standing next to her, I know she is my future, and she was my past, and in an odd way she is everything to me, It’s been a complex voyage, true, and I’ve had much opposition to my affections. Many have spoken of how it is a selfish dream, a fanciful dream, a dream that will be unlikely to come true. But this is my choice.

Me and her against the world, and I wouldn’t have in any other way.

People Change.
People Forget.

We move on our own tracks
and make our own opinions.
and make our own decisions.

We take steps on a path
which twists and turns and winds its way
into a map of memories
in which you can look back
to see footprints
you remember
and respect
and regret.

And over time
the footprints will fade.

We can not return but only look back
which is why regret is a dangerous thing
because it is hopeless

You could miss something to the side
if all you do is look back.

It is walking
up a downward escalator.

I call out your name from another room
but your mind is trapped inside the color blue
I want to pull you out of shattered glass --
from all that haunts you in your past  
you are here but you're still there
where bombs, and blood are everywhere --
lost in the color blue while you're
wandering from room to room  
you are trapped inside the color blue
I keep searching for an open door
to tell you that you're home from war
you are here but you're still there
trapped inside the color blue
but, I keep searching from room to room
forever, and ever until I've found you.

Remember that overused line
about how opposites attract

As if we were comparable
to the idea of magnets
where North and South linked each other

Meaning our bond was built like this,
where we knew we were different,
but still we wound up together.

But later on we figured out
that there was not much between us,
that we’re more same than different

If its true how the saying goes,
there would be no reason for me
to even think why we’re apart.

Because opposites do attract,
and we found out we’re more alike.
So maybe that's the answer why.
Why it felt like you were drifting,
slowly drifting away from me.

Because when it comes to magnets,
opposites do attract each other.
But then we weren’t opposites,
because we saw ourselves in each other.