With you, nothing is the same.
Kissing you is painting a sunset, and loving you is living in my favourite book.
There is nothing mediocre about you,
and you, darling, are the loveliest piece of art I have ever laid my ever curious eyes on.
You are a contradictory painting of complementary colors, with the perfect blend of light and dark hues.
You are the sun, the moon, and all the stars, you are grass and earth and everything that makes me feel alive.
You are a cozy sense of belonging and safety like hot chocolate by a fire
and a mysterious abyss of thoughts and wonders as deep as all seven seas.
You are a morning stroll through a city on a crisp autumn morning
and a high speed chase down a San Fransisco highway.
You are a slowly burning candle whose flickering flame is lulling me to sleep
and a drug I can not cope without.
You are a collage of my favourite things and my favourite places and a playlist of only the most wonderful songs.
You are a staircase to paradise and a new way of thinking that tingles my senses in the best of ways.
You are the feeling of love and you take me to the most amazing of heights everytime I get lost in the perfect storms in your eyes.
You are what I'm reaching for in the dark, and holding onto until the morning.
You are everything in life that makes me smile, you my dear, are all of the little things.

yes, I am a princess, and yes I want a fairy tale.
No, not a dashing prince to come claim me as a prize after some monster held me captive.
No, not a man with too good of posture on a horse to come rescue me from my secretly evil parent's ploys.
No. Not like that.
A mysterious young man with a knack for guitars and a drug problem.
Now, this is where you're probably thinking, what kind of fairy tale is that?
But let me go on.
The drugs, the guitar, the things between his teeth...(and between his legs...) were the things I like to address as a call for help.
Astonishingly, everyone around him was to ignorant to see the pain behind his smile.
They were focused on his teeth, but I got caught up in his eyes.
Hazel brown, very easy to read, and having the ability to make me want to look a little nicer when I thought they'd catch a glance of me.
My cry for help was more of a silent kind, one that said save me from this thing inside of me that's telling me I'm too cruel to love, and too worthless to be loved.
And on the odd occasion one or the other occurred, well, it was never at the same time.
He heard my cry as loud as I heard his, because we had this connection that only happens in the movies.
But this is a fairy tale after all, so what did you expect, right?
He told me he loved me, and then things started to change.
He told me he had a new kind of drug problem, and this time, it had a heartbeat.
We stripped away each other's flaws, and brought out the best kind of smile in each other's eyes.
You know, the kind where you smile with your eyes, and not just your teeth.
It doesn't matter that my fairy tale didn't take place in a castle, or that my prince isn't the son of some king.
What matters is that I found the kind of happiness that makes someone else's dream your dream, just so you get to be there with them.
The kind of happiness where you stop dreaming because reality is finally just as perfect.
And that my friend, is a fairy tale.
Stop looking for someone perfect.
Start looking for someone who isn't perfect, but you wouldn't want then any other way.

I met a boy who kept his heart next to him in a fragile glass jar
In his heart he kept his thoughts, views, and emotions safe from judgement and hurt
I asked if I could see the jar, just have a look
he told me no, I didn't want the burden that came with knowing too much, but I persisteted
He took out his heart and showed me it.
The bumps and ridges, the bruises and the scars
I handled this information with care, and I kept his heart in my mind and then it was as if he started to read mine.
But my curiosity was not satisfied, it never truly was.
This time, I asked if I could hold his heart in my hands, feel it beating, memorize it's rythms
No, he said.
I promised I'd be careful
"That's what she said"
It then struck me that those blemishes on his heart were fingerprints.
I swore I'd never hurt him and he refused to believe me.
So I stayed up late at night and dreamed about his heart in my hands and I knew I could repair the scratches she left.
So I stole it.
I stole his heart.
He tried to take it back but I needed it and I held on for dear life.
My eyes burned with passion infused tears and he realised just how much his heart meant to me.
"Keep it."
"I never had any other intentions."

I've been in my head all day
racking my brains for some answers
all I could find up there was your voice.
Just like it's burned into my inner monologue
almost as indefinitely as the sound of my own.

It is not so much words I hear but sounds that rumble and shoot right through me
just like when you say good morning.

It is burned into the back of brain
along with the sound of our lips parting and your steady breaths when you sleep next to me.

My mind has you on it
even when I am not consciously dreaming you into my morning routine,  and drinking you up like my cup of tea,
for you're hot to the touch but you go down so easy.
You too, make my throat burn a little less.

You are sitting in a corner of my headspace,
quietly listening to your favorite songs on repeat
watching my brain waves rise and fall like seawater.

My mind is like an ocean,
and you are the only one brave enough to swim it.
Tell me how tall the waves were,
and how strong you had to stay to keep from drowning.

I never meant to toss you around in my turbulence
but there is no stopping that which can not be calmed.
One day you said "I love you" & my waters were still.
You realized that all along you could touch the ground if you stood up straight.

I think that is when you realized, you had no reason to fear me.
I think that is when you realized, the only person who could drown you, is yourself.

And when you said that out loud, your voice got into my head, and I can't get it out.

always left in the corner of your mind as soon as you get what you want from me
and I'm asking if it's such a crime to want to be front and center once again
you once said you got over things with substance abuse yet I'm here and you seem to forget.
there will always be something more important than me.
you lied when you said all escape routes closed because of me, cause I swear if they did it wouldn't be like this.
am I asking for too much?
just to feel as loved as you claim I am?
I am only human and I'm sorry that I require more attention than you feel I deserve but I can't change that no matter how many times you say you love me something in the presence of options makes me feel something is wrong.
an explanation is all I ask but it's always been too much for you so I will leave it at this
don't ask more than you give

I look at you and I see infinity.
Mirages and dreams and possibility
that you don't see when you look
at yourself
in the mirror.
What I see,
it's in focus,
things are so much clearer.
you look at yourself and you see irrelevance.
You see
what you've told your reflection you are
and after all this time.
you've started to believe there's no reason left to dream,
but
dream with me, of city roof tops and subway tunnels.
dream of me sleeping your sheets and kissing you good morning.
drowning in your love, as you drown in mine.
dream how I dream, with pictures of
us
from year to year
hung on the walls
of a little apartment on the south side of town.
And maybe that day you'll believe that I plan to stick around.
Tomorrow in a hallway,
or 5 years in a crowed room, or a bustling city street,
filled up with skyscrapers
or palm trees,
think of me, and how my eyes are always searching for yours.

Enter protagonist.
Nothing special or out of the ordinary about her that the average eye could see.
Nothing enticing about the way she simply existed, wishing to accomplish something without knowing what.
Nothing out of the ordinary, at least not on the surface.

Every morning was the same, a routine of sorts, that consisted of waking up generally excited for the hours ahead and being disappointed when she realized they had nothing to offer her but tired people putting on fake smiles,
Just getting by with nothing but apathy and narrow hallways to lead the way.

More than anything she wanted to do something with herself, to explore what the world had to offer her.
She wanted to experience everything and anything,
But the confines of small town living and oppressive thoughts seemed to stop her from finding her purpose.

Life for her was not measured in time, but in the richness of her existence, and in those prolonging moments,
Life had seemed to slow.
She was alive, but never really living.
The things she expected to thrill her left her with an emotion of emptiness that washed over her like a billowing wave on a night with no moon.
A night that lacked the guidance of light.

She could pretend something was nothing but she no longer wanted to.
She desired to expand her horizons and more than anything she wanted to feel something.
Anything in the world other than the lonely abyss of nothingness that clouded her mind.
She needed to make something extraordinary happen, and she hadn't had the slightest idea how.

She read books.
Lots of them.
She imagined she was in them,
laughing and dancing and kissing alongside the characters.
They felt bliss, they felt hatred, they felt raw energy serge between each other at impossible speeds.
She longer for this kind of passionate relation with someone.
She wanted to be with the kind of people that make you forget everything else for a while.

She dreamed of open fields full of beautiful souls,
Enjoying every moment in pulse with the music that drove their very entities.
She often closed her eyes and dreamed of these places in the middle of nowhere-
Full of lost kids with no intention but a good time.

She wished for summertime adventures
& sunglasses
& reckless abandon in its purest form.
She longed to love and be loved.
She longed for a companion, someone who could bring the feeling back to her frail and aching fingertips, which grew more and more numb by the day.

Days for her passed by in a haze,
She had trouble determining one from another.
She kept telling herself that good times were ahead if only she kept looking.
But she did not have even the slightest of clues as to where to begin, and so she stayed lost,
Waiting for the soul that could bring hers back to life.