The pleasant lingering smell of rose hips,
feels almost healing,
as we tread through the garden -
together barefoot and vulnerable.

I won’t shy away from the prickly green grass,
then in the same way,
let me tickle you with my stubble as we laugh -
together joyful and crude.

One has to be careful not to lose themselves completely
to rub your intricate fingerprint away into another's skin in patterns,
because although the body feels heavy when weak kneed -
the weight of another’s soul is too much to bear alongside your own.

I won’t hold your head underwater in the fresh lake
then in the same way,
let me breathe when we lay by its side -
together entangled and safe.

The passing time made you my involuntary complex,
feels nearly daunting
as I adore this so shamelessly -
us together - balanced and in love.

senses stumped by your shine
the loud rumble of a motor
sided with a drizzle of trust
cologne and oil as the main odors

you take me without me knowing
by muscle memory I hold on tight
and we laugh and cry like lovers
long and deep into that dark night

we haven't even passed the start line
and I still feel like a winner
but only if you invite me out later
for some ***, gin and maybe dinner.

I laugh,
since there I stood
sand running through my fingers
thinking I could hold you close.

Your eyes are rough, warm, divine
Close them, for a while  
put out the fire in me.

Together we are brittle, new, fools
In heart, or my mind
the warmth it still lingers.

But when we reach the end
I'll close mine too; then we can be beautiful.

we call it love
our lips merge together in promises
steady heartbeats long lost
laying there hand in hand
keep mine if you want

Believer or not, there's always someone or something that stops you.

Others pushing you so you almost push yourself off, but they have no clue.

And you know you can't go to heaven if you cause others grief.

And suicide is only seen as a way out for the weak.

I don't judge those who left this world, they took their fate into their hands.

There are other ways to do it though, they could have made future plans.

But those were determined last steps, hard choices to leave life behind.

Still, instead I hope people continue to express themselves with tears and rhymes.

Pretty girls lifting up their skirts, while the moon is out.
Coming off strong the night still young, a mix of alcohol and doubt.
Ring around the torches whoever ***** on the porches, took a different route.