Who would've known the devil I chose...looks like an angel when she's sleeping.

Who would've thought a snake's venom tastes so sweet when I'm drinking the nectar of the woman I loved.

You are but a story, in a chapter, in the long book of my life...and here I thought we'd be co-authors together.

No. Because as much as I miss the idea of you, our four walls, our future together. I realize those ideas are merely thoughts of who I wanted you to be...not who you are.

I longed for a place atop your mind for so long. Spent days wondering what I had to do to make you smile - never stopping to question if I was happy with you...or the merely the mirage that I created in my mind.

I spew lies to myself, tell myself I won't find better than you. I don't deserve better than you, that I fumbled the biggest hail mary in the history of this field and yet as I stand near the endzone in the 4th quarter...I wonder if it's better to just to take knee and lose this game so I can come back and play another season.

A hail mary....is a last ditch effort...with a low probablity of success...it was never meant to be sustainable...I see that now.

We did not know each other very long...and yet I crashed into life with you 1000 miles a minute flying so fast I couldn't hear that little voice in my head...you know, the one that tells people not to fall in love overnight, not to trust the woman who lives with a smile on her face, a chip on her shoulder, and stake sticking through her  heart....

No. I do not know what is on the other side of this mountain, but I'll be ****** if I sit at the base crying for someone who does not have the capcity to love me, no I'll be ****** if I don't reach for the stars in search of a better tomorrow.

The thing they don't tell you when you shoot for the stars...is how likely you are to hurl straight pass them...forever lost in the abyss of space.

So I ask you...is it better to shoot for the stars with a chance of missing...or stay on a planet that is actively dying...a little more every day?

....a feeling I can't quite describe.

Despair.

....a feeling I know all too well.

How is it?

That when I walk out the door and open my eyes, I feel 100 pairs are staring back at me.

What is all this for?

The surgery, the transition, the willingness to be someone else.

I wish I knew.

All I know is that one day, I'll look in the mirror and finally see someone that feels like me.

I'll look inside my soul and for the first time, not be an imposter, but be at home.

I step forward, change my face for the day.

Who do you want me to be, what the **** should I say?

Everything I've said so far hasn't been what you'd like.

Fighting feels like volleyball, always waiting for the spike.

I'm down on my knees pleading baby don't go.

But these feelings I'm feeling, God I've never felt so low.

Until I'm the "right" version of me, I'll play the frontman.
I'll play the frontman always standing by,
I'll play the front man, forever caught in a lie.

I've been American dreaming...a slumber of days untold.
American dreaming...a longing for the days of old.

Because old dogs can't seem to stop turning tricks and the lotto's been called again but I still haven't won my picks.

American dreaming of days of the past where bad things were common and women wore masks.

Of smiles and deceit to hide their fate from the men with knives who swore they'd made the pain fade.

Away to the future where "******" run amok, and the ones elected to "save" us couldn't give a f---.

Yes, I'm American dreaming, of a place welled up with pride, I'm American dreaming as we **** ourselves from the inside.

In a place screaming "Freedom" as we duck and run to hide.
The abyss pulls us closer as we put our trust into those who've lied,

to save their skin, because we only back the best...
I'm American dreaming...but I can't seem to get no rest.

Welcome to the world by bright-eyed boy,
we're so happy to finally meet you.

Step out of the shadows,
pick up your crown,
and walk like the king you were always meant to be.

You're young now. One day you'll be a man.
One day you'll dance amongst the stars and your name will go down in history as the prince who saved every princess in all the fairytales.

Today, you're a boy who's not afraid to fly.
A boy who's decided not to hide.

A boy full of courage, with love on his mind.

I've never been a holy roller but I found God in your eyes.
I've spent nights praying for a woman like you and cursing him in the same breath for not bringing you to me sooner.

I'm not a cosmic universe "has a plan person" but I'd move heaven and earth before I'd let the stars in your eyes fade away.

I never understood what it meant to have a "person". A "ride or die" a Bonnie to my Clyde, the mother of my children and the woman I hold at night, I've never understood more than I do now the carnal need that men have to walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

The way that life has turned from a burden to a privalege is like night and day. The way you look at me with so much love...like you'd want me even if some days I'm Superman and others I'm just plain 'ole Clark Kent.

While I've never been one to tout God, my faith in you does not waiver.

I know not of any scripture that could have predicted a woman like you, I know not of any hymn that could come close to singing your praises....and yet I'll belt out my off-key symphonies anytime in the car because it makes you laugh...and that sound is a bigger dopamine hit than a shot straight to the veins.

No, I'm not naive. No, things may not be easy and no, I will not waiver. Because you are in fact giving me the greatest gift of my life, far beyond all of my holidays and birthdays combined.

You were sent to me in the last moments of my head being held underwater, those moments when your lungs start to burn a little and you're not sure how much longer you can put off the inevitability of your chest filling with water.

Those moments when the light at the end of the tunnel fades and all of a sudden, you're left wondering if the only way to win this game of life is to not play at all.

A highly competative woman once told me that participation trophies don't mean a thing and the only way to play is to win. So, I'm putting in the work and taking nothing less than 1st prize from here on out.

Because at the end of it all, the work is worth it to get to spend the rest of my days building a life with you.

So no, I've never been a holy roller...but I'd make a deal with God to never lose that spark in your eyes.

The cracks in her palms told a lifetime of stories.
The bags under her eyes spoke of a world of worry.

You could say she was weak, but she grew in multitudes when it came to her inner voice.

That little thing in the back of your mind, that tells you what's right and wrong? She had a difficult relationship with that.

She...I mean...I was confrontational. I was naive, younger than I am now, sadder than I am now. Angry at the world in a way no child ever should be.

I grew, changed, back tracked, and fast forwarded, through some of the best and worst times of my life. All for what?

Money? Stability? Power?

I wasted a lifetime wanting things I never bothered to wonder why I wanted them in the first place.

What does money really buy you once you've spent it all on worthless trinkets?

What's stability with no one to share it with?

What's power but a faint illusion of control?

She...I mean I...have spent entire eternity in denial....

and for what...happiness?

I couldn't tell you what happiness was if it caressed me with one hand and beat me with the other.

A message to my former self....stop, smell the ******* roses before you let them wither.

Love yourself before you drive your mind to insanity.

Don't give up the rest of your life to a cause that's not worth fighting for...for a dream..you don't believe in.

Let me give you some hard advice kid.

Capitalism is a regime, control is an illusion, and money is the Devil's play thing.

A message to my former self.

Stop.

While you still can.

Letters, voice memos, videos, pictures anything I can do to leave you memories of me before I embark on the next chapter of this journey.

No, I did not see the light at the end of the tunnel. Did not undertsand all the euphemisms about finding a reason, a will, amongst the inspirational posters hanging along the doctor's white walls.

My eardrums bleed, beg me to stop blaring music, pumping the booming bass directly into my brain because at least in those few moments the bad sounds dim. The voices battle against the rythmic, upbeat pop songs I play to drown out my current reality.

It's crazy, I seem to think, as I lay in bed again at night wishing more than anything that I could sink into the dark depths of the sheets and wake up the next morning a souless shell, because at least then I would not have the capacity to feel what I feel now.

I've tried to no avail to explain the claws of my subconcious that continue to pull at my feet, whispering sweet nothings into my ears, reminding me that the sweet release of a life not yet half lived is only mere moments away. The edge of the abyss always there, always towing the line between the "jokes" and intentions followed by actions followed by inevitable consequences.

What were once calls of help are now full blown battle crys. What were once outlandish thoughts are now full blown plans for the adjectives in my obituary.

See we all know how this movie ends, the sequels canceled due to budget cuts and a total lack of creative freedom, the story not yet finished and perhaps tucked back on a shelf in a pile of other manuscripts and news clippings of stories ended too soon.

It's crazy, the way that thoughts bounce through my brain, echoing along the walls of the chasm in my mind. The people I care for the most, long gone, the ones I know I've failed are far too deep into the great beyond for me to voice my apologies now.

Those who are left are the mere souless bodies, walking the face of this Earth pretending to love until their sense of obligation fades away. They've long sold their souls to whatever beings exist in the underworld in order to buy themselves their own ticket to surviving their tumultuous existence.

As the credits roll...I beg no one to ask themselves what they could have done differently. I beg no one to get introspective and challenge what brought us all to this conclusion.

Instead, I ask you what good is a story that has no ending? Were there in fact lessons to be learned along the way, or did we merely just waste each other's time? What good are memories if they all fade to black eventually.

Congrats on your participation trophy as a valued member of my life. When the bar was set so low, most of you still found a way to trip and tumble over it anyway.

The funny thing about the credits at the end of a movie is that...no one ever sticks around to see them. So let's not kid ourselves and pretend we've started caring about the plot now that the story's almost over. What were once main characters in this tale are now barely honorable mentions and who remains now but an old VHS tape in a box in the attic, destined and praying to be forgotten?

She opened her journal and for the first time in a long time,
she wrote happy words.

She told stories of freedom from the chains and weights bearing down on her for so long.

She spun tales of a new life she'd never thought she'd be worthy enough to have.

Long ago, she'd stopped dreaming. Stopped her side glances in the mirror because looking at a person she didn't recognize just proved too much to bear.

Long ago she'd given up hope of every being worthy of anyone else, she'd given up hope of a relationship that didn't end in resentment,

but that was before she met her.

Her eyes were greener than the depths of the sea that churned against the shores of their favorite place.

Her laugh, thunderous, beautiful, a force of nature strong enough to move mountains.

Her lips, soft, inviting, loving with zero expectation except to be loved in return.

She was a welcome reprieve for the chaos in my brain, an oasis of love in a drought of madness.

She taught me that love didn't always come with a price tag or a hand around my neck.

She made feel safer than I'd ever felt in my entire existence.

Long ago, I thought love was phantom of my imagination.

I thought love was for the weak and disillusioned.

Long ago, I was lonely.

Until I met her.

You'll always be a piece of my peace of mind.
You'll always be the sunrise when the clouds threaten to pull me taut from behind.

If home is wherever I'm with you then consider me a permanent transplant, a vigilante on the run from the horrors of both our pasts, looking for an ode to our youth.

Yes, if loving you was an ocean I'd drown so you could stay afloat, wishing I'd be the wave that sunk your every adversary's imaginary boat.

For I'd always thought I was a sickness looking for a cure, yet you've moved mountains to preserve what's left of me that's pure.

Baptized by bad times, swigging a bottle of regrets, you swam me to the surface with no fear for the horrors that our love may beget.

Because we're a million times better together than we ever were apart, loving you is an honor and privilege, so thank you for letting me into your heart.