How could you ever love me to death?
What a morbid thought to think!

But if you ever attempt such a thing,
I'll love you back for being so crazy
because I'm kinda crazy,
and somewhere along all of that crazy,
well,
Perhaps I might die.

And even then,
I'll cry in my eternal sleep
Knowing one day you'll fall in love again
While I still love you
as the sky soars above you.

Have you ever fallen in love?

I once did,
sitting on top of a sand dune
under the lights
of the Fourth of July.

                                         The water below
                                         cast the reflection of beautiful chandeliers
                                         bursting with color,
                                         and as timeless as sand,
                                         and yet my eyes were elsewhere -
                                         capturing something unlike I'd ever seen.

Have you ever fallen in love?

I once did,
laying on a couch as I held her,
she turned to me and smiled;
the chandeliers were bold and raucous
as they decorated the sky of my mind,
and the stars twinkled in the depths of her eyes -

                                        that memory since faded with time.

Have you ever fallen in love?

I once did,
the pen in my hand
gave birth to words and worlds
made from my reflection
like they were my children -
and I had always feared
impotency.

                                               I created places I'd never seen,
                                               but they were as real as sand,
                                               and for a moment,
                                               I felt like God:
                                               watching from above
                                               as my creations began to breathe.

Have you ever fallen in love?

I once did,
living on a page of black and white,
if I was God,
she was an angel,
and the song from her trumpet
reminded me of the chandeliers
I thought were lost in time.

Have you ever fallen in love?

I don't know if I ever have,
but what I have is something
that gives me a reason to be;

                                                 Something beautiful
                                                 and intricate
                                                 like a chandelier
                                                 whose glass was once
                                                 nothing more
                                                 than countless grains of sand.

Not too hot,
not too cold,
I like purple
because it's bold.
It's royal, it's pure,
it's a daydream sky;
while purple and black take me back,
the watercolors dry.

I used to like blue
like typically boys do.
Calm, a primary color,
your favorite flavor, too.
I like the blue of jeans,
and the blue of a summer sky;
I like the blue of these little pills
that motivate me to try.
-But blue is too strong:
a frozen twilight leaves you bitter
as you march through the snow
protesting, but Mama didn't raise a quitter.
Plus blue comes in many shades -
indigo, teal, more than you'd believe -
and it's hard to think
while a crowd cheers for their favorite team.

My favorite team is red;
I see passion and pride
in this jersey I'll wear
long after I've already died.
I like red because its
shades grow richer
as you taste something
intoxicating like liquor;
the way it paints
those curves of desire
makes you wonder
if you'll ever get any higher.
-But I don't like red
because of his car and his truck,
and this blanket of mine
that he's never tucked.
And a sky dripping red
ignites a burning fear
like it's soaked in blood
and the Lord's tears.

So purple is mine,
and I cherish it like gold.
As violets bloom,
I see the truth like a secret untold.
Blue and red come together
and purple glory reigns;
I am a paintbrush
whose color never drains.

To the girl sitting at the bar -
surrounded by bodies, but you're still alone -
please see the beauty they'll see
before they ever ask for your name.
Your smile is addictive
like this liquid courage
that frees our inhibitions,
and lets a rat sing poetry
to a hummingbird.

They don't care,
but I'm sure that you don't either.
But a face that pretty
with eyes as clear as your
gin and tonic,
and their intentions,
does not deserve
the ol' college
Walk of Shame.

The damndest thing
is that at the end of the night,
all you want is for someone to notice you,
to treat you like
how the music makes you feel.

I would buy a drink and your time,
I would point out the way
you grab your earlobe when you feel

isolated

But this game wasn't meant for me,
and I've heard that you want a player.

Sweetheart,
they all notice you.
The more you wear,
the less approachable you are.
So I ask:
Please see what they'll see
before they ever know your name.

People love a poem they can relate to

People love a poem they can define for themselves.

People love a poem their heart sings to

A poem they can pick up off the shelf

I am a mirror.

My father looked at me
and he saw a disappointment;
so he ran away
to find someone with a kinder reflection.

My friend took a peek,
and they saw something pleasant:
They saw themselves in a different light.
So they put me in a place where
I was never more than a glance away.

A former lover glanced at me
as she passed by;
she saw something unstable,
so she found a mirror
whose glass she could bend at her every will.

My mother stood before me
and she saw her hopes and dreams -
I've never known someone to admire their reflection
more than themselves,
so that's why I love her in return.

I can see it all:
the beauty,
the filth;
In fact,
the only thing
I've never seen
is me.