Somehow, time always finds a way to seem smaller when you're counting it in reverse. And the days fall short of the hours, as the hours do the minutes, as the minutes do the seconds, and as I do along side the rate of my heart beat, when your eyes meet mine. And in this moment, when the hands on my watch are moving counter clockwise, you can see right through me. And beyond whatever this is that I am existent in, is more than these bones were designed for. The hands on the clock are stuck in the shape of a question mark and they weren't programmed to sing their song when midnight arrives. I wasn't programmed to pace myself for when midnight arrived. By now the time has disguised itself as a wizard of a slow form of magic, kissing my lips, and making promises for tomorrow although tomorrow had come and gone. And when I asked how I knew when it was time to part I heard time tell me that I could stay, as long as I wished. And so I wished I could stay for a lifetime, until the sun collided with my heart and shot me into a new set of skin to dwell in until the next time. Nevertheless the hands on the clock stretched their limbs up and across to make love to the numbers they had left behind temporarily. Here, I was served my biggest fear on a silver platter and told to run as fast as I could. Time was casting spells behind my back and I fell into its curse. Time has forgotten my name and I am trying to find the will to unforget his. Perhaps I met time in his darkest hour and it positioned it's shadows around its closest victim. Or perhaps time has never been on my side.

And somehow your lips still taste like "I love you" after I've spent all this time trying to shake this feeling.

One day I'll wake up with a little less heartache and a little more wisdom and I'll realize that love shouldn't feel like shattered windows and locked doors.

I've been thinking a lot about the stars and the sky, and how the constellations spell out our names on the lonely nights when everyone is asleep but our minds are awake wandering, just as they always have.

I keep promising myself that there must be something more than screaming at the constellations hoping I might get a response from you.

I've followed the light to the places where our footprints are visible as if the cement had been wet when we passed through and I fear that these stars won't live to tell our story
Stars are dead long before you see them and they burn furiously regardless of my protests.
These stars will vanish  much like you did but we're under the same sky tonight.

No one could understand what she was running from until her curves turned into storm clouds that washed away the disguises that occupied her fears. When her secrets began to stick out if the cracks in her smile no one expected to see monsters breaking off of each word she spoke. Her passage was narrow but it was vulnerable - no one knew why it was so hard to stay for too long but she watched each soul turn away when they could find their way through her riddles. Her life was a carousel ride and she became accustomed to living in a constant circle although she dreamt of the day when she would finally reach the detour that would take her back home.

He was afraid to fall in love with the girl who drank until her blood turned to ***** because he could never seem to figure out what it is she was running from.

When I looked at your eyes, I didn't notice any color that reminded me of green swimming pools in the midst of July. I didn't see any sort of light or sparkle that
made me fall in love with you all over again. I didn't see any words that could assure me that you were suppose to be there staring back into my eyes at that
moment.
Instead, when I looked at your eyes, I saw so much confusion. I saw the way that your eyebrows raised but your eyelids lowered the more you spoke.
I saw the way that you needed reassurance that I was still there, so you lifted your eyes, but your head stayed down.
That night your eyes told me more than your voice ever could. And now, all I've done is wonder what my eyes have told you.
I hope that they told you that my knees still buckle when I see you and I can't seem to move forward after you've just walked by me. I hope they told you that
I'm not sure how not to love you. And I hope they told you that, the only place I've ever really felt like I belonged was with you. I hope they tell you that since
that night, I've stared at the empty sky begging for a shooting star so I could waste another wish on you.
I hope my eyes revealed the way that I tried to look into so many other pairs of eyes and all I've found is that I look for yours each time. And I hope they told
you that I'm not sure how many eyes I'll have to look at until I feel like I did when I saw your eyes.

She was born on fire. Ignited with hope and a lack of regrets. When she smiled it was like time had stopped - and for a moment I'm sure it did. She lived her life starting forest fires but she could never understand why she always destroyed everything that crossed her path. When they tried to tame her, her flames only grew bigger and those flames lit the saddest parts of those that she ran down.

When she decided to bury her flames, you couldn't help but ask about the ashes that settled underneath her eyes. She lived her life furiously and when she lost her flames she lost the parts of herself she thought she needed.

Once was a girl who lit the world with her flames until her sadness became too great to keep her ignited.