dreams held under late night street lights
kisses escaping lips under the moonlight and the stars
and broken hearts scattered along the street corner
over heartless text messages and bitter words, comes what they call love

teen-sweethearts ripped apart by lies and despair
and new loves and new chance
and never will they be remembered for what they really were
but only the grass stained clothing and the smoky kitchens at 2 am

the late night kisses that mean nothing any more
the "I love you's" in hushed tones and the hand holding
the strolls in the wet grass on a crisp winter day
the borrowing of sweaters and sharing of cigarettes

I don't know any more whether I am asking for too much
in today's society of rushed thoughtless texts and less and less
true love, just flings and secrets and Facebook chats
I don't want that, I want fire, I want true passion

I want a love that keeps me awake all night
a love where my mind is so tangled around you
I can't think, for the whirlwind of your presence
always in my mind, always on my lips, always in my lungs

"please don't think I'm crazy"* you said to me, with a horror on your face,
                                                                ­           that words can't describe
why in the world would I think that?
                      "sometimes I feel, like my bones are fake, and the structure that I am, will soon surely break
                         and all that will be left is a soul and a broken heart, never pieced together right, as it was
                         broken from the start."
I stay silent. You continue
                      "the human form feels so weak, it feels like a densely packed piece of nonsense, where my
                        mind is a fragmented puzzle, bursting at the seams, and then girls like you come along
                        girls like you that make me weak at the knees, and I wonder if my heart is overpowering
                        my endless thoughts of despair and weakness and lack of hope and I realise that maybe
                        if I can't save myself, then in this infinite universe of unanswered questions and unknown
                        possibilities and piles and piles of doubt that add up like the ***** laundry, well maybe
                        if I can't save myself, you can save me"
we both cried, and I held you, and I knew that if you thought you were insane, then I must be too, I told you I felt the same, I let you save me, now it is my turn to save you

I feel that the body I have been given is too small
too small for the infinities that my mind and soul create
inside of me every minute, of every day

like my brain is wild with ideas too big
to fit inside their casing
and my body too weak, to hold my thoughts

words do not come easy to me, though not through lack of language.
There is too much inside my head to unscramble the jumbled mess
of words and thoughts and ideas, too strong, too strong for me

this body is weak in comparison to the colours and feelings inside of me
this measly shell, restricting my mind from reaching out
and experiencing the true form of this world, and the next

a flesh encasing that my brain is dependant on, yet what if it were not?
what if my soul was cast adrift with ideas I was not aware had came to exist
what if once my mind was free? what would happen then?

my mind is living somewhere else,
and I think that is where my soul eternally resides
and I will find it one day, one day, one day

my ribcage is crushing my heart ever so slightly, not enough to pain me
but enough to keep me on edge
the moon is shining through cracks in my soul and it feels like a re-birth
after all of the harm, the hurt and the pain my body and my mind have endured
everything is beginning again, new and fresh and this time, different

I know more now, than I ever have before, and the feel of your arms has escaped me once more
I have left the past behind, and I can't remember the colour of your walls
or how you liked your coffee in the evenings of the Fall
I have forgotten how it felt to be loved by a monster, I have forgotten it all

the moon shines brighter, and brighter still, and with you out of mind - it begins
the awakening of a new self, a new way of life, I have let the past slide
and I am ready to start again

how am I ever supposed to feel at home again?
when your eyes were like a fireplace - warming me, and lighting my way
my home is so far away now that you are gone
I was never anything to you, I understand that
you were never really much to me either, until you left

the house I live in is just bricks and mortar, torn away wallpaper
and numbed down memories of a childhood I can scarce remember
what is a house of stones and wood compared to a home
of warm flesh and eyes like the pools of water that only exist in my mind?
a home with arms that can hold you safe, not walls that keep you restrained

have you ever been told to simply "*******" and been left stranded somewhere?
or kicked out of a party at 3 am in the winter and forced to walk 7 miles
back to your house, all the while you're still a little drunk, staggering a little
left feeling like your feet are somewhere else because you're so cold and you didn't think
to bring a sweater. Or you didn't want to, because the only ones you have used to be his.

I lost my train of thought, that tends to happen when I think of you
when you walked away, it felt like being kicked out of the only place I felt I belonged
no wonder the concept of a stable home is so hard for me to comprehend
after the storm that you took in your stride and threw upon me, then left me with, alone.

stable? I don't know stable after knowing you. You were a hurricane of fiercest proportions
you were long limbs that wrapped me up a little too tight, and screamed at me
told me you were home, and I was yours. You were a home that left me house bound
to the point you stopped feeling like a home, until you apologised for everything
and now it's been a long time since I last spoke to you, not long enough, but too long
and you still feel like a home to me