Ere half my days.                                                                     In this cold world.
When I notice what I can't do with out.
But never knew at first.
When I was still in the world of blank.
When I was still wondring about who I am.
But now have reach the peak.
Can't run anymore.
No dreams anymore.
I notice what I never should have.
Ere half my days.
In this cold world.
Where you make success your destiny.
Where you make mistakes your faith.
Ere half my days.
When I notice that nothing last for ever.

By the time you swear you're his,
  Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
  Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
  One of you is lying.

Sleep escapes me
when the waking dream seems to fade
back into it's dull reality,
piercing pain and endless disappointments.

my face is hot with anger
and I scream in silence,
clutching my pillow, clutching onto what's left here
hoping you don't let me go
as easily as you took me into your life.

the past will not be altered
you've made your mark.
I can't erase it even if I wanted to.
I'll try to reassemble the shattered trust
but it's harder than it would ever seem.
can't you see that i'm trying,
can't you see that i care?

I steal the breath, the sleep runs away from me
all of my fears taunting me and my fatigue,
and as it sets in,
I look up, begging,
don't let me go- just like that.

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
'I'll do a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use,
2B or not 2B?'

This is my shot at being romantic...
I'm sorry if this sounds a little frantic.
I am trying as best as I can to write,
But I fear my heart is holding my pen too tight.
Just want you to know that you are a special guy.
You deserve the best, you are like sweet, hunky piece of pie.
Happy Valentine's Day, from me to you.
Happy Valentine's Day, I think we should *****




...in a new light bulb. The current one is glitchy.

I see the way you admire her.
Looking into her eyes while you're staring at mine.
It slowly but heartily overcomes me at day. At night is when it is at its worse.
Do I not fit what you are seeking for?
I ask nothing more.
It is her who you adore.

I sold you my dreams tonight,
That was me hiding in another life,
Somewhere between worthless and priceless,
Eyelids twitch as the torment unravels,
Sleep well and deep,
Fall and fly; run and hide,

Last night you bought my past,
Stories seem so small and distant,
The characters all ghosts of a passing age,
Lost to a dazed fading mind,
Don’t pity me here,
Old stories; float away,

Tomorrow I will sell you my hopes,
Hold them gently; they crush easily,
That was me hoping for the light of day,
Fists clenched and blinded,
Embrace my future,
Open eyes; arms wide,

My heart is yours; it always has been,
Not sold but given away, (maybe thrown)
Wrap it up to keep it warm and safe,
My gift to you on credit,
Unconditional yet fragile,
Buy now; pay later.

you are
friday night dinners and
red lip stained coffee cups
and family photos and skilled
sarcasm and twelve trips to
disney and your love for
avocados and adventure. you
are sunday morning bike rides
and hand written letters and
power outages with candlit ghost
stories and week long sleepovers and
summer dresses and worn out boots
and accident prone vacations and
themed birthday parties and forgetfulness
and gerbera daisies and singing too loudly
and too off key and GOOD mistakes and
better memories
you are constellations and sea glass and colliding galaxies
and sometimes the calander turns
like a lottery and once in a blue moon
you can find a girl with fractured
sapphires in her irises and a heart too
big for her ribcage and a spine as strong
as a lightning bolt
so thank you january twenty sixth,
for michele.