I could keep writing you poems you'll never read

Or I could put my pen down and bandage my own heart

Either way, I would still lose because I wouldn't have you

I hear the moon singing out your name.
Every night.
I see the sun radiating your smile.
Every day.
The stars remind me of your beautiful eyes sparkling
every time I see them.
The rain embraces me with your scent.
The night sky and all the constellations lingering,
portray your beautifully carved face.
Mother nature hums your voice,
the one vocalized perfectly every time you say something.
And yes, every single thing around me brings me back to you.

Give them to me.
All the pieces of your broken heart.
Give them to me.

I'll take them.

All the rough-hewn misshapen bits of your shattered dreams.


Give them to me.
I will take them.

Give them to me.


They are wanted here.


All the parts of your misspent childhood. All the regrets of ticking seconds behind you.

Give them to me.

And we will build a cathedral. A stained glass window of who we are as tall and as beautiful as it should be.

Let me have them.

And we will make a mosaic that stretches as wide as the sky. Showing every color your heart gained from the bits and pieces left on the ground.

I will take them.

And forge a sculpture of how beautiful the ideas are that we cast out in our failings and we will cast it in our failings.

Let me have them.

And we will ***** a monument of all the small things in the shape that you remember them.
Towering. Looming. Striking. Beautiful.

Let me have them so we might bind the words said and regretted, (or worse) left unsaid in leather and call it scripture.

Our Psalms. Our Proverbs:

“The tip of my finger dangles like my tongue. Wanting to touch something beautiful.”

“If it were not for him, it would have been us.”

“You were all my brightest colors.”

“I wish I were more like you.”

“I wish I were less like me.”

“I am sped.”

And we will read them at dawn like litany.

Stretching our voices to the corners of the universe. Asking for the wishes you make when you are scared. Or alone. Or both.

That we may take them.

And make a blanket.

A blanket to cover our childhood and let it rest at last.

I will take them.

All the parts you no longer want.

Give them to me.

Because they are what make us beautiful.

Give them to me.

That I may forge them into pitch and feathers and craft mighty wings.

That I may take flight from your worry. And soar on the updraft of your misconception.

Give them to me.
I will take them.

Because I would rather burn like Icarus than to have never dared to fly.

Loving you is like
trying to fix a cracked glass
full of liquor
with your finger

Loving you is like
walking down the street at 2 am
with bare feet
then staring blankly at you door

Loving you is like
touching snow flakes
passionately
as if they were your lips

Loving you is
dancing in a field
while kissing your closed eyelids
as you're sleeping, lost in your dreams

Loving you
never felt the same
Something I have never experienced,
it's something new and fresh,
yet it's frightening like ghosts howl at night

for if I remain here without you, surely the weight of my heart will drown me.