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J Oct 2013
Dear, you say I am small enough to fit on top of your palm,
But lover I disagree.
My heart, it is huge.
It’s like a balloon that expands.
It expands,
And I don’t know when it’s going to stop because,
Honey it feels like it is going to burst.
The content of your laughter and your butterfly eyelashes,
Fill to the rim.
Like a glass of whiskey.
Baby, you are making me tipsy.
My poetic fluidity is gone,
It evaporated into the sky.
So I am waiting for it to rain.
Sweetie, hum me a song while we wait;
Wait for the skies to cry.
So somehow I can show you,
How much my heart can weigh,
Your hand down to the ground.
J Oct 2013
You are more beautiful at 3am
Then you are during the day.
The stardust that resides inside your body
Glows and glistens
Like shattered glass left along the sidewalk.
J Oct 2013
You smell like burnt coffee and no,
Not the fragrance, sweetheart.
You smell like the sigh
That escaped your parted lips
When you noticed it was burnt.
J Aug 2013
There are times where I want to dip my hand into the rippled parts of my thoughts  
And smear them onto white walls so you would be able to see the mangled images I have of you.
I am not able to sort you into categories like a librarian does with pastel colored spines on red-oak shelves.
No; you are the excuse “rules are meant to be broken.”
You are the contradictory between oil and water.
Coloring my perspective a different shade of grey like spilled contents of smoke engulfing the ocean that houses above skyscrapers
You said “One day I’ll come back, blistered hands and scraped knees.”
J Aug 2013
Like you, words are delicate but abrasive.
They leave trails of kisses along your torso, but also they have a rampaged hunger for rattling your ribcage.
They have the tendency to manipulate wallflowered minds such as my own.
Words will fill you up with sunlight, letting you have a mere taste of sheer ecstasy, but will take that away returning you to the hollow vessel you once were.
Words are like past lovers who keep coming back to tease.
J Aug 2013
Without giving me any warning,
You engraved yourself into my flesh;
Like a flower wrapping its vines around my torso.
I would pluck at your petals and
Tear at your roots
But you would not leave me.

— The End —