I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.

All things fade
Rain washes away the deeds done
Somewhere on the earth, in the trees
On a winding path, where the fireflies
Like failing Christmas lights flicker.

To the green eyed goddess
I must admit that I have never written
about my muse before, so this may sound strange.
You see she is a green eyed goddess.
Her hair is spun heaven’s gold
and she moves with the grace of falling leaves.
When she dances the stars shine brighter
and my world becomes peaceful.

But what makes her a goddess is internal.
The fire inside is a warm light that says all are welcome.
Even when she is fighting the demons inside;
she always has a smile for me.

Words are under her spell.
She takes those twenty six and creates like paint on a canvas.
A master chef who makes a feast for all to enjoy.
A pure soul who takes everything life gives her and makes it beautiful.

That is why I write to the green eyed goddess.
Praying that for a moment, I can use words to summon the sun
into her darkness. That I can make her smile one more time,
and know that the world is still at peace.
Her hands were made to create,
so I will use mine to protect.
So know you know about my muse.

Created by perfection,
Not from without but with great intention,
Physically,you're flawless.
From your toes to your face,
Upto the longest strand of your hair,
Believing this may be a great dare,
But its true,
Its true that the flaws flow from within you,
Not your body,physique or biological make up but the mind,
And to this notion;most of us are blind.
Accepting and loving yourself the way you are,
Makes you shine flawlessly like a star.