Be greedy in your dreams
because dreams are not taxed.

When she's happy,
she writes
When she's sad,
she writes
When she's hurt,
she writes
When she misses,
she writes
When there is no wink of sleep in the middle of the night,
she still get in touch with her ink and a paper

She has found her hiding palace,
in the hands of her beautiful black diary
She has found comfort,
in the fascinating creation of her pen
That exquisite glance she get everytime she get in touch with her writings,
gives her a new breeze out of nature
The feeling of having to express her feeling without judgement,
gives her new outlook on life
Words are her chariots
Inks are her swords
Writting is the stain in her veins

I looked up to the night sky
Because me and you both know how much I love the stars
And I saw your face
Sculpted into the dark sky but lit up by the orbs of love.
I looked up at the sun
As I saw its brightness almost blind me
Just like your eyes did
And I felt its warmth on my skin
It was like your hugs wrapped around my body.
I looked up at the rainy clouds
As the darkness engulfed the sky above
It made me think of the silent tears you cried
And the dark thoughts that swamped in your head.
I looked up at the moon
Oh how sad the moon looked
And it made me realize how there is so much you dont know
And so much I wish I could tell you.
I looked up at the galaxies
And how confusing it all was
Just like us
And you’re gonna think this is about her
But little do you know.
“Space was just one of the many things that tore us apart but also brought us together”

© Douglas Stone '16