And then it dawned on me,
quite suddenly, with no warning,
just how much I loved you.
As you fell apart,
I realized then
that I would give up
everything,
sacrifice anything,
just for you to be happy
again.

Death?
What are you?
Are you what gives life meaning?
Or is it...
Life that gives you meaning?
Are you actually wonderful,
compared to life?
Or
is it because life is so wonderful,
that we are afraid to die?
It is only life that is within our perception,
for we do not perceive you,
death.
We know that life is full of trials,
but
we don't recognize that you could be too.
For we cannot comprehend you.

Do we fade?
Completely out of existence?
Never to return?
Or, do we meet a
Creator?
Does our being wander,
through a limitless void?
Or, is it possible,
we are given another life?
And death does not really exist?
What if everyone is waiting?
Our loved ones, our friends,
all on the other side.
We can only guess.
But, why guess at all?
Why not just live
Life.

The leaves are turning,
the air cools.
It's Fall.
Loving memories with friends
float through my head.
With the cold nipping
at my fingers.
I cannot think
of a better time of year.

And still...there is something...
missing.
A person,
one I'd so desperately love
to spend this season with.
We could dance
with the leaves falling around
us.
We could tell ghost stories,
by a fire as warm as our
hearts.
Oh wouldn't it be grand?

I throw my cigarette away.
The cold creeping through warms me,
as I think,
of how it would feel to hold you.
I smile at the thought.
Gentle euphoria
fills my heart.
You may not be here now,
but know this:
I'll go to bed holding you tonight,
and you'll fly through my dreams
like the leaves through the air,
my beautiful angel.

Never again will life be as simple
     as it were today.
Not a care, not a worry, as we
     lie there.
Surrounded by all the love in the
     world.
And a small child's laughter floating
     through the air.
In that moment, I know, this is
     where I want to be.
And all the worldly possessions could not
     keep me away.

All I wish is to be in your arms again.
Safe, and secure.
I just want those late nights,
with wonderful conversation.
To wake up to a kiss,
with an angel,
whose lips are as soft as satin.
To kiss,
say I love you,
and to kiss again,
with our bodies melded into each other,
forevermore.
To sit and rub your back,
relieving the stress of life
from your muscles.
I want to kiss your neck,
softly,
just one more time.
To have your head on my chest,
and to fall asleep,
cradling the only thing I'll ever need,
my diamond amongst the rubble.
To see into those eyes,
which hold so much pain,
and yet,
still so much love.
But,
you're a thousand miles away.
So, for now,
I send all of my love,
all of my heart,
to you.
Until we meet again. <3

If I could pluck the stars
right out of the sky,
I'd wrap them in silver bow
and emeralds divine.
We could walk among the clouds,
never say goodbye.
Baby, I'd give you all the stars,
Just to make you mine.

Lying here, I reach out
Expecting.
There is nothing.
You.
You are hundreds of miles away.
And, though it feels,
Feels as though you are beside me,
Where you belong.
Expecting...
You.
Yet, there is nothing.

Sleeping, I reach out
Expecting yet again.
Still nothing.
You.
You sweep through my dreams
And I feel,
Feel your arms around me.
Where they belong, calming.
Expecting...
You.
Yet, there is nothing.

Come back to me.

This is supposed to express my love
Yet something so simple as paper and words
Cannot describe something so vast
So even though I'm doomed to fail
Write this I must, and write this I shall
Though it is infinitely pointless,
and hopelessly prudent
I must scribble away and hope I can show
Just how much
my love for you,
grows.

My own special heaven
Away from all that is bad
Reaching for forever
In the most wonderful way
Even if,
          It's far away.
Losing myself in you
Over and over
Vowing never to leave
Ever again
          Your sweet, sweet smile, an
          Oasis to behold
          Until...
                   forever.

The sweet burn of alcohol,
still on my lips.
The rustic smell of cigarette,
through the warm summer air.
The white page before me,
with meaningless scribbles.

For I am but one soul,
meant to burn.
Meant, because I have committed crimes,
crimes I do not yet know of.
And yet, I'll know of them.
Yes, I'm sure I will when I die.

I am cursed, you see.
Cursed with a vengeance on this world.
A world that has so wronged me,
that my heart will never forgive.
Cursed with endless work,
for I shall never quit.

How often, I sit and wonder,
If this world is hell,
and each of us has committed some terrible crime.
But that cannot be so,
for I know of those who live
fat and luxuriously without a care.

Maybe this is my own hell.
Maybe it is all in my mind.
This entire world, inside my mind.
My own little world, created
from my own thoughts
to punish my eternally.

But no...one must avoid such thoughts.
Thoughts of the world revolving around oneself.
Maybe, yes, maybe
I am here, along with all the others,
only to pass the time.
(There is a word here that can't be made out because it's been smudged. It might be "Religion?")

Why are people so certain,
Certain that there is more than this life.
But what if there isn't?
What if this is all we have?
And this one, fleeting, life,
is all that we have to make our mark?

How could it be such,
that man, a glorious creature indeed,
has nothing special waiting for it?
How could it be that such a kind, beautiful race,
is nothing but a bunch of meaningless particles?
How?

Oh, but I'll tell you how.
For this is unmistakably a cruel world.
A cruel, unforgiving universe.
So then, why bother?
With anything at all?
What's the point?

So then, why do I write?
I write because I hope.
Hope that one day these words will reach.
Will reach a fellow lost soul.
Hope keeps each of us going,
going, and going.

Hope must not be underestimated,
for it is the very essence,
the very beauty of all mankind.
Maybe, too, it is the curse
of all mankind.
And yet we still hope.

Hope for a better tomorrow,
a better world,
a better fate.
Hope binds, and connects each of us to one another.
We are all the same, really.
Each of us live on hope.

My own special heaven
Away from all that is bad
Reaching for forever
In the most wonderful way
Even if,
          it's far away.

I locked eyes on you.
This is who I was in love with.
I hugged you close,
my dearest friend.
               Would you like to build a fire, you asked.
               A fire? Why, but of course!
               And so we set out.
               We gather wood, we gather kindling.
Harmless flirting, too-long glances.
What are we in for?
What are we doing?
It's dangerous, yet I can't stop.
Neither can you.
               We set up the fuel, we're ready to burn.
               I strike the match, and throw it in.
               A beautiful baby flame starts growing.
               I feed it all the small things.
               What a hungry little flame...
We are sitting there,
me lying down and you sitting directly in front of me.
Finally, after much wondering from me,
you lie down,
and allow me to wrap myself in you.
My mind eases, body relaxes. Sleep.
               The baby isn't such a baby anymore.
               There are coals forming,
               and the flames grow larger.
               We throw in more wood. Bigger wood.
               The flames struggle to break it down.
               But it's only a matter of time.
We are lying about again,
watching a film.
Otherwise known as an excuse to hold each other.
More harmless flirting about.
And then it stops, we are still.
This is the time, so I kiss you.
In that moment, my world is flipped, my life changed.
               The flames are scorching now.
               The coals red hot with a ***** brilliance.
               We throw more wood into the inferno,
               but it's not enough.
               We throw in more and more and more.
               And the flames rise, rise.
               The heat is overwhelming...but so welcome.
We kiss
and we love.
We kiss
and we love.
We kiss
and we love.
We kiss
and we love.
               The fire burns,
               so we let it burn.
               The fire burns,
               so we let it burn.
               The fire burns,
               so we let it burn.
               The fire burns,
               so we let it burn.
Now it is time to go.
I say my goodbyes.
Say that I love you,
one last time.
               The flames are out,
               the fire is gone.
               But a hot fire means hot coals.
               So now there is but one question:
               how long can the coals smolder?

Where are we going?
Who will we become?
What is our purpose?
When will we know?
An assortment of questions,
in this question shop.
I lay them all out,
for anyone and everyone to answer.
But, alas, they remain unanswered.
For everyone else is either uncaring,
or as confused as I.

Day after day after day,
I lay them out and wait.
While I wait, I wonder,
and wonder more.
What could the answers be?
In questioning,
I only raise more questions.
I sit alone, and the shop goes dark.
The sun rises, and sets.
The moon waxes and wanes.
Time flows on and on and on.

The shop begins to crumble,
the questions become more and more urgent.
I sit alone, and wondering, wondering.
Now I am old and gray,
and the shop is gone,
reduced to nothing but rubble around me.
The questions still stand,
and nobody bothers trying to answer them anymore.
So it would seem that I have wasted my entire life,
questioning only to never receive
any answers.

The notes, flowing
flowing, flowing.
Through the air,
the air.

The notes going
going, going
Without a care,
a care.

The notes slowing
slowing, slowing.
In my heart,
my heart.

The notes sewing
sewing, sewing.
So far apart,
apart.

The music, the music.
Such a joy,
a joy.

The melody, the melody
so coy,
so coy.

The music, the music
speaks to my soul,
my soul.

And to every soul it speaks,
it speaks.

Weaving words,
so carefully. Every
syl
la
ble, crafted.
Spectacularly
laced, though the
unforgiving blue lines.
Wonderfully
chased by the
deadly silent black pen.

These words,
meaning or no?
Mischievous and
deceiving. Or
hopeful and
believing?

Where do they go?
Where do they lead?
Follow them, yet
could they be
seen?

Fortitude and fragility.
Miles apart, yet
undeniably the same.
In the world of words,
it's all just a game.

Coincidental rhymes, and
sentimental times, or
simplistic virtuosity, and
complicated philosophy?

These worlds in words,
are never as they seem.
But who are we to judge,
when the words in the world
are never what we mean?