Don't fall in love with a writer.
A writer will take you to worlds unknown and you will get lost.
Don't fall in love with a poet.
A poet will construct stanzas of love and heartbreak,
Leaving you desperate for words unfathomable.
Don't fall in love with an artist.
An artist will paint you into their realm of never ending paintbrush strokes where love is just another color on a canvas,
Just like sadness.
Don't fall in love with her,
She is a mindless soul wandering the halls of heartache.
Don't look at her,
Her eyes will pull you deeper into the gold flakes that encircle her pupils like stars surrounding a black hole.
Don't fall in love with her touch,
Fragile fingers tracing patterns over your skin like a delicate knife cutting you open to create flesh wounds never to heal.
Don't fall in love with her body,
Captivating you with her honey drizzled hips,
Nectar inducing lips,
Taunting you as she strips.
Your skin is like fire,
Burning flames dancing and mingling with just a fleeting touch of her beauty.
Don't fall in love with her,
But,
You already have.

Love like the sun
Loves the earth
Ever since they met
They dance every day

The sun makes the earth
Look on the brighter side
The earth gives the sun
A reason to wake up

Love like the earth
Loves the sun
Because the earth isn’t distracted
By the stars and the moon

fly, be free

                                 A
                            B        C
             ­           D                E
                            F      ­  G
                                 H
                                    I
                 ­                     Just
                                       Kid
                                          L ove
                                           Me!
                                          No
    ­                                     One (ever did)
                                         Perhaps
                                        Questions
                                      Reveal
                                    Secrets
  ­                                  Time
                    ­                Unknown
                                   ­ Vows
                                     Whimsical
                                       X haling a breath
                                       You land in my
                                      Zone

You weren't there during my nightfall
when my subconscious illusion
constructed nerve-racking thoughts,
causing my eyes to spill tears out
down the false face I stitched
that you never fretted to take off.

You weren't there to see me in distress
with razor blades rubbing my crust.

My core―it forbade every irate pain
that battered its almost wrecked doors.

You weren't there to hunt the screams
that bounced off those ill-starred walls,
creating cracks that I loathed to see
for they offered me images that blinded me.

You weren't even there to tell me
that life isn't always a battlefield
between me and myself.

How is it that you only care when it's too late?
Sorry, but I won't be there to take hold of your tears
as you are being struck with angst
and your gone-too-soon moans,
still stunned with the great tragic―
a box my size sinking right before your eyes,
hush, darling, save your cries.

You never
told me
you were
a ghost,
Dear,
creeping into
my mind
at night.

Little girl, little girl,
crying in the middle of the night
as she tries to escape
from what's inside her mind.

Monsters clinging, clutching
her soul, dragging
memories she longed
to forget

And a girl so lost
a long  time ago
that no one searched
for her,

So perhaps
She's lost her mind,
but I think she's
just lost inside

I've got burning desires
to rip my heart out
for I can no longer
form phrases that
you'd bother to read

I've scratched a thousand
words before for the way
I wrote them--
unsatisfying

Tell me that my ink and pen
are worth touching the paper,
scribbling my chaotic thoughts

For these words can no longer stand
the fires inside my head

It was all incredibly detailed—
the way he dove into her drained eyes,
how he explored her dark and poignant soul;
metaphorically saying he was in paradise.

How delighted it made him feel
when he picked up all the withered flowers;
telling her how lovely they are.

How he buried all the dying trees and birds;
bringing the life back to her lonesome world.

How he tinted the black and whites;
making them vividly colored once more.

It was the way it slowly lighted up
her once lifeless world
it was brought to life again
full of bliss, very lively
not until she felt
an overpowering embrace of reality.