You've got a few stray freckles on your face
like specks of stardust lost in space.
If you connected those dots,
Would they spell out your most secret thoughts?
There is nothing that you need to hide,
don't lock yourself deep inside.
I know how the galaxies of your mind exhaust you,
Because I get overwhelmed, too.
But just look at the night sky,
And stop asking why;
It is so beautiful,
Just like your so-called soul

Across the table, you sit
Fingers entwined with your hair
Papers askew, both elbows firmly placed
Back arched, you’re unaware
Of my eyes tracing the lines of you
More than the problems
I am supposed to be solving

Stop being so attractive
I cannot pay attention to what’s being said
I can practically see the gears
Moving inside your head
Thoughts obvious as if written
But why can’t I read them
When it’s you looking at me?

Hands dusted with graphite
Brush against my skin
I say nothing but
I cannot help but grin
Looking down, so completely studious
Need to focus, even while
I sneak peeks beneath lashes

Can I can I can I
Just press my lips against yours
For just a few seconds
Can we hide behind closed doors
From our obligations and the staring eyes
Time, just slow down
Because every hour with you is a second

I am utterly fascinated by the basic miracle that is our hands
I cannot comprehend those who lose touch
When I am left riveted, electricity conducting from every nerve
from even your fingertips, the slightest brush
How do lips convey this love?
Simple motions of the soft and pink,
Leave me dizzy and light headed from lack of breath
So immersed in desire I can't properly think
I feel that if I held you tight enough,
You could feel my internal symphony
This drum in my chest and pulling of heartstrings
Never stops with you and me

"Follow your heart," they say,
drawing a map in their mind of the path
they think you should take.
I think this is bad advice;
if my heart is as lost as my mind, then I'm surely ******.
Walking in the dark is always a mistake.
Maybe I can find my own way.
But all I've got is a single match and a thousand dry trees.
If roots are thirsty mouths, then where is the voice?
The silence does not put me at ease.

Feeling the palm of your hand in mine is all I can ask for in order to feel calm. Sometimes I fear that I miss my life passing by as I'm trying so hard to remember everything, trying desperately to record instead of actually listening. I feel as though I live more through my memories than I do in the present, and even while they are happening I begin to feel nostalgic for the moment at hand; I know that life is the sand of an hour glass, but I still cry when the grains slip between my fingers. I want to shatter the glass of this containment, but instead I trace the curve like I would of your cheek, wishing for every yesterday to last forever. They say there are more stars in the sky than the number of grains of sand on every beach on Earth, and I know how each kiss burns like a lightyear. I can't imagine how long it would take to count these seconds, losing time with every breath

I just can't keep living this way,
when all I do is cup my hands to catch the acid rain.
It's eating away my palms and charring my fingertips.
I feel the poison seeping into my veins and yet,
I raise them to my lips and drink.
The fire is in my chest now, my stomach.
I'm getting dizzy, I'm reaching for a grip, for you.
But I'm just leaving ****** fingerprints on the concrete,
and now my limbs are screaming with defeat.
My tears are chemical and my wrists are weak
and I wonder if I'll ever be clean.
If you're looking for purity,
don't look at me