I didn't know what it felt like,
closing your eyes and wanting to be
kissed.
I didn't know what it felt like,
had someone look at you straight to your
soul.
I didn't know what it felt like,
until I met you.

Love was just a game,
love is fictional,
it never felt real,
because I only knew love from a love story,
but never know what love is.

You open up my heart,
putting my missing pieces back,
but as I learned what love is,
I realize that love was more than just an affection, more than a feeling towards two people,
but love was....

Something deep and mysterious and couldn't be explained because love is unknown,
it came out of nowhere and caught you,
once you get in it,
you stuck inside of it.
And if you left all alone,
you wish,
you never know how love
felt like.
And rather live a life without knowing
what love actually felt.

You're going to throw up
leaving. change. panic. fear.
You can't breathe
why. how. don't. please.
You're having a heart attack
alone. forever. helpless. trapped.
You're dying*
can't. stop. please. help.
You´re fine*
....oh

Simply gone is where you are,
You're out of place and lost in space,
You visualize inside your brain,
A world in which you define as sane.

Joy is found so tangible here,
There is no pain or vein or fear,
Hurtful thoughts reside inside,
But release themselves wet from the eye.

Everyone has this world them self,
To be grown and to own their mental heath,
No record of thoughts to be spoken of or read,
This world of mine to design lies within my head.

Not easy to state the change you made.
If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn't just tow me an inch, no--
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter--
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly-chisled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears,
Angels weeping over dull natures,
But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of ice.

And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I was was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in dew
Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.
I didn't know what to make of it.
I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.
I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.

Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift.

I brought a pen
cause I want to write
nothing important,
just my thought.
cause of this little square
journal book,
that remind me of you.
even when I hates you
I want to write it on that book
how silly is that book is.
nothing important,
you give it away to someone
who don't appreciate the truly
meaning of that silly book.