And now the future is palpable,
And I can almost just barely taste it
On my lips
Just like the chapstick
I applied 15 minutes ago.
The future is in my range
And I can just barely smell it
Just like the perfume I applied this morning.
I can smell it faintly, when I notice it
But times the smell disappears,
As I get used to it;
only to be reminded of it
When I receive a hug of congratulations
And my friend will say, "You smell nice".
And in that moment I sniff my sleeve to try and smell myself
And get frustrated when my chapped lips feel rough against the texture of my shirt.
So I reach into my pocket, and struggle to find a small skinny tube,
I grasp it in my fingers and apply it to my lips
Afterwards licking them,
Smiling,
Because I can taste the future once again.

You're getting to know the back of my hand
While I'm getting to know the shape of my heart
As it violently presses against my sternum in a uniform timing.
It is dark, but I know your eyes are glancing down at my pale hand,
Flushed pink with the cold,
icy wind that angrily rushes through the window to our right.
No one has ever shown this much interest in my hand before,
And I know that sounds strange,
But it is comforting to know that someone other than me can appreciate such things.
I am an artist, and my hands are my gateway to the world,
They are the messenger,
The communicator,
And without them I'd be lost.
Hands tell stories,
They create,
They destroy,
But they can make beautiful things.
So let's make something beautiful and destroy it.

It's strange how through times of turmoil you discover who belongs in your life.
In that moment, you stop everything you're doing, just to let that one person know,
You love them.
They fight on, and live on, through the inner struggles in their heads,
Struggles some of us who are weaker, would not understand.
She said, "If this is the end, let it be beautiful."
So let it be beautiful,
Because she said so.

My hands grasp onto unsure objects
Fighting the past and barely handling the future
And I feel sick.
I feel sick each day
Each morning
Each evening
Each conversation
Each cigarette.
I cannot digest this,
Nor can I digest the food on my plate,
Or the information thrown at me each day.
I am lethargic and boring,
Lame and confused,
Tired and constant,
There is no change.
I fear routine but
Also fear change
I am fickle.
I am boring I am selfless
I am selfish I am sure
I am distant
I am clingy
Like the shore.
I pull you in when I need you
Push you away when I don't
Cry when I am uncomfortable
And turn dark and I am cold.
I grasp onto unsure things,
Hoping I will gain control.
Control is not in my control;
However,
I will try and grasp onto these feelings,
Write about it and wither in self pity
Only to realize
I can only control the words
Escaping my chapped lips.

I can't help him when I can't even help myself anymore
Because days have turned into months and I'm just dying to crawl
Out of my skin and out of this world
it's full of sadness and carelessness and misery and doubt
And I had you back for a moment and now you're walking back out
And I can't keep apologizing for stupid little things
And giving people advice when all I need is an embrace
To let me know I am human and that it will all be okay
But I'm sinking in sorrow and the snow just keeps falling
And I can't help but wonder what would happen if I laid down on the ground
And let this white blanket consume me
Would I die and be reborn or
Become absolutely nothing

I had a dream we were scuba divers.
We floated through life like nothing could hurt us.
We're all running from something, I learned.

I had a dream we climbed mountains.
We sat at the top and looked at the world from above.
We laughed and choked and felt our lungs close.
We're all afraid of dying, I learned.

I had a dream we were astronauts.
We said our goodbyes and floated in the sky,
Looking down only to remember that time
We were scuba divers.
We're all afraid to let go, I learned.

I had a dream you left one day.
You packed your bags and I went to your house.
We hugged and promised to keep in touch
And that I'd visit at least once a month.

I had a dream we grew up.

Soft couches,
***** carpet,
Tobacco flavored breath.
***** stained shirts,
Soft lips,
Desire for a body to hold.
Stumbling,
Falling,
Crying,
laughing.
Walking,
Talking,
Driving,
Smoking.
Kissing,
Missing,
Wanting,
Wishing.
Hazy lights,
Blurred signs,
Mixed signals.
Jealousy,
Empathy,
Anger,
Joy.
Wooden walls,
Drunken calls,
Dark areas.
Wet grass,
Dry laughs,
A night dedicated to my birth.

I have so many passions,
But I contain no passion to pursue them.

You told me we were a movie,
But we were more than a 2 hour scripted piece of art.
I remember the willow trees and how they'd weep over us when we felt like weeping, too.
I remember the sunsets and how they came around 7:30 pm,
Now the fickle sun sets at 4 pm.
I remember the girl who told us we were beautiful,
In her own way
she was a sign of the great perhaps before us.
I remember desperately wanting to kiss you,
Even though I reserved those moments for the late nights we were intoxicated
when you somehow made your way into my arms every time
And how our lips would accidentally brush against each other,
softly,
And innocently.
I can't help but realize that you must have known how I felt
And how much I wanted to hold you.
Or how when you rested your head on my shoulder that one morning,
You definitely could hear my heart skip a beat.
So maybe if you're right, and if this is a movie,
You've chosen to end it.
Or maybe you've decided your character has moved on,
Leaving me alone under the shade of the willow trees
With my cigarettes and 4 pm sunsets.

The end

My lungs ache
For the comforting embrace of
Fresh air, and relief,
And slumber.
But it is far too late,
I am trapped under water,
And I cannot see,
Nor hear,
Nor breathe,
Nor speak.
But I can surely taste;
So, I try and ******* blood and grow familiar of
It's humanly reminder that I'm still alive.
These days have been tearing me to shreds
And I no longer have a voice to shout out for help.

Routines are the mind's way of playing tricks on you.
And when you reach a point of breaking, a point of severe uncontrollable emotional damage,
The damage, of course, inflicted upon you by yourself,
Will suffocate you and in the process, proceed to shove you against a wall without any last words.
And in that moment, you feel like crying,
But you know, that there is no point in crying anymore.
There is no point in pondering, no point in asking, "why?"
You will find that you, yourself are nothing but a mere fraction of the mammalia kingdom,
With nothing but processed emotions, fake attitudes, controversial peers, and material objects that mean absolutely nothing to the outside observer.
You are nothing but a stupid monkey with "designer" fashion,
Nothing but a human with this bizarre concept of love that masks the lust you feel deep in the night as you crave someone's arms around your broken body.
You are nothing but a victim to life and all of life's offerings.
I am nothing.
I am minuscule.
I am a victim to society,
A victim to pop culture,
A victim to perfection,
A victim to succeed,
A victim to wealth and prosperity,
A victim to living in its own,
But most importantly, I am a victim to my own mind.
And that, I feel, is the single most cruel thing that could possibly happen to myself.
There is no point in success without a driving force pushing you to succeed,
And if I were granted success with no specific driving force then why should I be granted it?
If I worked for hours just scraping the surface of some magical discovery only to be brought down with negative feedback,
Why do I fail?
Why do I fail constantly?
Why do I tell myself that I am smart when I do nothing to prove so?
I am nothing but a victim to my own mind,
And the only escape is to die.
I am nothing.

Emotion provokes me,
Passion demotivates me,
And love desensitizes me.
But today, I let myself break down.
I let the tears break free from their restraints, and flow freely, and they ran
Down my cheeks, fast and urgent, like they desperately needed to meet my chin for the first time.
And I realize how fragile it is, how fragile I am, how sad life really is.
I feel
Real.
And this isn't something I've felt in a while.
Why is it that the thought of losing something so precious to me, makes me feel alive?
Why is it that I believe I need you, now?
The words keep running out my mouth, as I spatter these thoughts out loud, as my tears follow in unison.
Flowing,
Like energy,
Like the blood in my feeble veins,
Like the students passing through halls,
Like cars on the freeway,
Like life.
I am flowing, pushing effortlessly through some invisible current that I have been fighting against my whole life.
My tears, however, have reminded me that I am still moving.
No matter how much I have tried to halt, no matter how many times I have attempted to stop,
My tears have reminded me.
I am flowing,
I am breaking against my restraints, and meeting life face on for the first time in my life.
My anxiety has clouded me from reality for too long.
So thank you, Sadness,
If that is your name.
You saved me from going insane, tonight.

I have never met one so broken,
So raw,
So completely exposed.
But, maybe that is only because I have found my way beyond your steep walls.
I have somehow dug under, or floated over, one method or the other,
And found myself here staring at someone I have never seen before.
This girl was important and she seemed very sure,
But something in her eyes told me otherwise.
So I stared and I cared and pretended to listen as she told me the truth from start to end.
And at the end of her story, I found that misery was not only found in her eyes,
But that her eyes were mine and I was seeing myself
For the first time.

I long for the heat and the rain and the green
Of the leaves as they blow in an August breeze;
With that smell of fires, and propane, and smoke, and the ocean
And the excitement of children when the fireworks light the sky.

I crave the affection of a carefree attitude,
The utter perfection of love and appreciation.
I want to listen to the sound of the days passing by
And hear my life be completed by each passing moment.

I want to lay in the grass and notice the sky,
Not for the color but for it's incredible height.
I wish I could forever remain in the clouds,
But I will surely shoot back down once September comes around.

So this is it, a flame on a long white candle
Once a powerful and intense heat
Generating enough to allow the pearl white wax to drip down,
Creating a small puddle of hot misery on an ebony table
Waiting for someone to scrape it off once it hardened into deep sorrow
The fire, getting hotter and hotter, allowing for the misery to build up and grow larger
Not yet hardening, but merely haunting the person awaiting to scrape it off
The fire became weak, suddenly, all at once
And the misery started to stop making its way down to its black death
The wax hardened, leaving a terrible mess of forgotten memories that I’d always remember
Memories I will never regret
Now, I must begin to scrape them up, and remove them from the surface of the table
The table being my pure heart, now tainted with this candle’s misery
And once the wax is completely removed, and the black table is left with nothing but scars
There will be nothing left of you, but your mark on my clean heart
Now stained forever with the memory of your misery,
You carelessly dripped on my expensive table,
Leaving scratches that paint will never fully cover up,
And leaving me with the memory of you
A flame, on a long white candle,
Burnt out far too soon.

I miss the days when our faces touched,
And our embraces spoke more than just lust.
I miss when our eyes would meet,
Just for a moment,
And you'd bite your lip like you knew I was craving your lips again
And again.
I miss the way you'd refuse to talk,
And how I'd stay up late waiting for your text messages.
I miss praying for us to work,
And praying for you to feel the same way.
I miss believing in something, at all.
I miss when the days were simple and the nights were short,
And when I'd hug a friend goodbye wishing nights like these would continue for the rest of my life.
I miss when the sun would shine brighter even through the winter.
It snowed so much that winter.
I miss running miles to see you, and hugging you like a friend,
But I know you felt my heart beat faster as you held me.
I miss your eyes and how they'd light up every time you smiled.
I miss the day we snuck into the forest and felt the trees talk.
I miss the first time I got butterflies when we kissed.
I miss the way you smell and the way your room looks at night.
I miss the seasons and I miss how they used to blend seamlessly into each other,
Like our bodies into one,
Just as the sun and moon overlap in an eclipse.
And it's now I realize that's all we'll ever be.
Just two masses suspended in space,
Forced to only admire from a far but gravity will never let us meet.
Only until the world ends will you finally absorb me into a ball of heat.
I miss you, I guess.

You are the relentless force crushing and bearing down on my fragile shoulders
You are the shivering that remains long after being outside in the cold
You are the sweat that gets in your eyes after pleading that the room would just cool down for a moment
You are the dollar missing from my wallet when I go to order a coffee at the local cafe
You are the lost hours of sleeping catching up with me as I wake up each morning
You are the plague that haunts my mind
You are the shroud over my eyes, preventing me from seeing what I should
You are unnecessary
You are pointless
You are harmless
You keep me up at night
You make me dread being awake
You are crippling
You are me

Sometimes I look at you and wonder if you actually like me.
Your eyes are bright and full of hope, yet there is still mystery in your gaze.
Life is much similar, giving us false glimpses of hope, only to fail us later with deception.
I fear someday too, that you will fail me, but for now I must have blind faith.

The rain pours down on an early fall day;
Summer is weeping before her departure, it seems.
I envy the seasons, and how they can come and go with such ease.
As if they are sick of Earth, and wish to go for a bit.
If I were Autumn, with her brisk attitude, and carefree lifestyle,
I wonder if maybe you would come to appreciate me more.

At times, I look at the rain and ponder if it comes to cleans us of our doubts.
If maybe it was summoned just to tell us, "Your fears are no more,"
And then I realize weather does not have personification,
Nor do eyes contain mystery, only expression,
And that you must like me, or else you wouldn't be here.
I suppose rain maybe does cleans our fears a bit more than we realize.

I can't continue playing these games,
And act like it's okay when you ignore my comments.
I can't continue suppressing the urge to grab your face and kiss you,
Only to feel your warmth and security.
I can't continue biting my tongue every time I wish to proclaim my admiration for you,
And my hope for our future.
I can't continue feeling like the way you neglect me is normal,
And that my constant doubt and fearful thoughts are average ones.
I can't continue seeing you fall for me, and for other girls,
And pretend that when you hold me at night that it's okay,
Because your arms make me warm,
And your eyes make me safe.
I can't continue pretending that I'm fine,
And pretend that leaving me behind doesn't make me feel lost,
Like a cloud of smoke has suddenly clouded my vision,
And I can no longer taste your yearning for my love.
I can't continue doubting our existence,
Especially for the second time.

We lie in two different ways.
Sometimes we lie, and we lie well, and never get caught.
Other times we don't lie as well, and the lie gets revealed,
leaving the truth.
What I've learned is that when our lies get revealed, we obviously didn't lie as well as we could have.
This maybe is because we are bad liars, or because subconsciously we wanted the truth to be revealed.
We are all liars and cheaters alike,
But the truth is always there
Haunting us
Until revealed.

The trees echo my desire for nourishment.
They are weeping and shedding their leaves,
Breaking down slowly and preparing for the cold months.

Music is playing in my head as we walk these narrow streets,
Experiencing youth and lust like it was just our method of speaking.

I am only a tortured soul searching for a purpose,
but I know that here with you is somewhere I should be.

This is my life and I can't escape it,
So if I miss the train, I'll take the next one.
You rest your head upon my shoulder and smile,
It let's me know that you love me,
It let's me know you understand.

If it were up to me I'd kiss your head and tell you that you are beautiful,
But unfortunately, as a tree, I cannot speak.
The seasons come and go as they please,
so I'll just sway in the breeze hoping someday you'll climb me again.

The rain has been coming down for days,
And I feel safe.
I am becoming my own, and beginning to accept the unknown that captivates my simple mind.
I over analyze and drive myself insane, but I have some deep routed feeling that through my hardships,
I will be okay.
As if this purge was some sort of release of fear,
Because a burden has been relseased off my crooked shoulders.
I feel genuine happiness,  knowing you care.
That's all I ever wanted, I guess

I want you to desire me
Like a cold drink of water,
In a cool crystal glass.
I want you to pick me up and press me to your eager lips and drink me like you haven't seen water in days.
I want to be the poison in your blood
That you crave each and every night.
I want you to rush into the kitchen after a long day,
and lift me up and let your lips embrace me
As you **** the life out of me because you absolutely need me.
I want you to beg for that 5 minute break in the workday
So you can set me a flame and inhale my nicotine passion.
I want you to taste me on your fingers and your breath hours after you've seen me.
I want you to be haunted by me.
I want you to desire me
I want to be desired.

Jealousy is a prison,
That encloses you in shackles,
And locks you in a room.
The lack of trust flows through my veins like adrenaline as I struggle to break free;
I slam my head against the brick walls hoping someone will hear me.
I cry for help but it's like screaming with your mouth closed,
As I drown in my thoughts, and overthink my misery.
The prison walls grow tighter around me and I begin to close my eyes,
As I pray for the days where I can see the light.
Jealousy is something that can tear you apart.
And for me, it's a prison I can't get out of.
I was born without the ability to trust,
So I weep to myself hoping I will get out.

And I'll admit I don't really like the rain,
Despite the beauty of it that people speak about.
I don't find it all that great.
I've been lying and trying to understand it's warmth and
Embrace the cold droplets that somehow singe my frail skin,
But whenever the world cries I can't help but feel sad.

Must we all lie and claim that these tears bring joy?
Because when I see her cry I don't smile and call her amazing.
I feel myself cry a little, too
And realize that she is in fact beautiful.

With this I realize we live in a world of lies.
We lie about our feelings,
Our experiences,
Our tastes,
Our professions.
We lie about religion,
And expressions,
Knowledge,
And passions.
But sadly enough we lie to ourselves about these things and give ourselves headaches,
And look outside just to see we're not the only thing crying.

And stubborn,
And somewhat self absorbed.
But you're gentle,
And careful,
And difficult to ignore.
So why can't I call you out on your annoying tendencies?
Do you feel the same way about me?
Do you rest your head on your pillow, and reminisce on the times we had?
Do you ever believe in fate?
Or that someday we can escape,
From this world we've grown too fond of?
Do you read between the lines,
And figure out my lies?
Do you ever cry?
Was there a time you fell in love,
With the simplicity of,
Something you can't describe?
Will you ever hold my heart,
Inside your arms,
And for once, tell me it's alright?
Because I can't forget the days,
When your face was not just a face,
But something so wonderful, I just could not describe.
Or will there be a day,
When all my dreams slip away,
And the home I created in your bed,
Will no longer be a home,
But a shallow hole inside your head,
Making you remember the times we spent,
Rather than forget?

That my whole word fell apart.
Before I went to bed though, I realized something, too.
I'm honestly in love with you.
They say love hurts,
And there is indeed an ache in my heart,
As I proceed to imagine a life without you.
I have been in love before, once or twice,
But this is something I cannot describe.
For I am familiar with the feeling, with the aching, and the yearning,
But this feeling of doubt and insecurity is new to me.
Is it that you are too perfect for me?
Possibly, I am just not used to be treated the way I deserve to be.
There is no sacrifice,
There is no misery,
There is no sadness,
I only feel fright and happiness.
Fright because I am scared one day you will realize how perfect you are,
And that you will walk away, just has everyone before you.
Happiness because you truly care about me and love me,
And I am ready for whatever hell comes before us.
And for me, that is saying a lot.

The snow can't hide your ashes
It can only bury them if you smoke the night before
So if I smoke in the morning, it's going to show.
I tried using it as an ashtray,
But the evidence was visible.
I felt bad for tainting the beautiful white glow.
I fell in love with the landscape,
Even more so when it was covered in white.
I fell in love with you face,
Even though I don't know where it's been.
I fell in love with the footsteps,
Walking to where I stand.
I fell in love with the rooftops,
And the people who let go.
So if I use my lungs as an ashtray,
I know my body is covered in snow.
I can use perfume to cover the evidence,
But only time will let me know
If this morning cigarette was worth it.
If the messages were worth it,
I'll probably never know.
So if you see my reflection,
In those snow covered hills,
Just remember it when my face was white and pure like the freshly fallen snow.
I can't keep falling
For people and landscapes,
But I can keep trying
If my lungs can withstand it.
So take my voice and remember it
For all that it was.
Take my heart and keep it
Away from the cold.

To be strong
But I am only just a seed
Struggling to grow without a hand to water me.

I am slowly deteriorating.
The world ceases to exist in my head, and hours pass quickly,
Like seconds,
And seconds feel like hours.
I stare blankly at a wall, for these mindless periods of time,
And it does not seem real.
Who says that the life I live serves a specific purpose?
What purpose does my life have if I do not accomplish anything?
These questions have ripped me apart, so I strongly suggest you do not take them to heart.
I am depersonalized,
Insane,
Nothing is right in my head, and I fear my emotions are too fake for people to feed off anymore.
Do I live this way, in a constant confusion, for the rest of my life?
Or will this condition of questioning go away?
I have deteriorated myself,
And caused myself to decay at too young of an age.
It is true,
Curiosity killed the cat, the cat being my brain.

Nimble fingers break apart green stems
And I watch them as diligently as I watch him
Twirl ebony strands between his fingers
Nervously
Anxiously
Waiting.
I'm waiting for your call and he's waiting for his texts
And I'm questioning reality as my pink nicotine fingers type words
That stream from my broken mind
It hurts tonight.
Teeth tell stories and lies
And I realize I am unlovable.
Not because of you,
Or the others before
But because I am unloved by myself.

Skinny necks hold sturdy heads
Blonde hair covers red scalps
Scratched and torn apart from stress of deadlines and tests
He's not on your mind right now.

I take drags knowing they blacken my tongue
Making my words unrecognized even by myself
And I wonder where I am and when I should be home

We all want more
We need less
This world is something with answers that I feel should be left unsaid.

Stories told by tainted hearts
Questioning myself
Questioning my heart

I hope you know that you are beautiful.
You are a small flower, in a field of weeds.
You will bask in the sun, and quiver in the night,
Hoping for affection that never comes.
And you deserve it, you do.
And I'm sorry he broke your heart, I'm sorry you're upset,
But please feel better, flower.
Let the rain sooth your wounds.
Let your friends water you with kind words, and unconditional love.
Grow to your fullest potential,
Because your smile puts those weeds to shame.

Insanity corrupts the mind of society.
As children lose their tempers and grow up too quickly,
And adults **** their last chance of tranquility.
The structures grow larger and the brain knows more,
And the sun grows hotter through the atmosphere's pores.
Growth and death suddenly coexist,
As your god crosses names off his Christmas list.
Your judgment defines you,
And your world deprives you,
2013 you merely exist.

Your hands are on my mind
The way they move and
The way they stay fixated on my spine.
The way they make motions and gestures,
Use utensils and cause pleasure,
They are one of a kind.

Your eyes are on my mind
The way the see the world and
The way they can see into mine.
The way they flicker back and forth
And look directly on the floor
In moments of discomfort,
They are one of a kind.

Your laugh is on my mind
The way it engulfs the room and
The way it stops time.
The way it is so genuine and nice.
It is one of a kind.

You are on my mind
The way you haunt my thoughts and
Make everything seem fine.
The way you pull me in and let me go
Like there's something to say or maybe
Just something I should know.
You are one of a kind.

I am sick of myself and all of my problems.
I am sick of my lack of ambition.
I am sick of my overwhelming need to do the wrong thing,
And the lack of the need to do what's right.
I am sick of sitting here and writing these stories,
About a life that has grown so boring.
I am sick of the weather and how it changes.
And I am sick of my desperation;
However,
I enjoy the smell of spring and the smile on certain people's faces,
And I guess that's enough for me.

You are a carnivorous plant
Seeking to consume any beautiful thing that comes near you.
Not for survival,
But for the mere thought of it.
Your brain is your host and your body feeds off it,
Even the thoughts that make your stomach sick,
But you continue because you feel you have to,
Because they tell you to.
So feed off me you vicious animal,
Tell me you need me only to drop my bones beside your feet
And lick your teeth clean.
I am nothing to you nor am I anything to myself,
I am nothing to everyone else.
So continue on your way and consume my every thought,
And I will regenerate myself just as I always have before.
So tear me apart only to put me back together,
And then rip me apart again.

I'm going to be heart broken again.
Because everything you ever said, was just the same but interpreted differently.
I feel lost.
I'm trapped in a small wooden boat, cast out to sea.
The sea is calm, but there is no land to be found.
I feel the time passing, with no explanation as to whether it's moving forward, backward, or if it's really just staying still.
I'm not sure if I'll ever reach the shore.
I'm not sure if I'll ever find the grips on the oars attached to the side of the boat.
My hands are too slippery, for I am nervous that you have stopped searching for me in this sea of desolence.
Eventually, I will wipe my hands off on my pants, grip the oars with determination, and paddle forward, praying that time is moving along with me.
And hopefully once I reach the shore,  I will be sure about my life, and sure about our entire situation.
And maybe,  your hand will be there at the dock waiting to pull me in.

The sun casts light through my windows, making little shapes on my floor.
I stare at them and wonder if I'll ever be fascinated with anything else again.
Stress pools down on me, and I feel damp and uncomfortable
Knowing reality will soon hit me like a bus as soon as I sit up.
You left last night.

It's so easy to remember in times you will forget.
I'll surely forget our tears and forget our mutual fears and all of our regrets.
I'll forget about you at times and you'll forget about me,
But maybe we'll be happy.

Run and catch your train,
It's leaving without me.
I never thought the day would come
When reality hits,
And we all grow up.

Break me down for I am broken but I've been built up again.
Your strong force has held me up through the storms and the wind.
It's been a terrible hurricane season and I'm glad the sun decided to come out.

Oh love, you are mistaken, you are the sun itself.
You're the fortress that surrounds me,
You're the thing that's keeping me around.

Run me over because I'm falling and I'm not sure where I'll land.
My heart has been cut out of my body and has been placed gently in your hands.

Oh love, you are the world.
I would not harm you and if I could,
I'd set myself on fire just to feel your pain too.

Trace the outlines of my hands on your back,
Take me with you when you leave.
I want to be the whisper in your ears,
I want to be the wind blowing in your hair.

Follow my footsteps when I go home so you can follow me to my bed,
Take off my clothes and explore the fields inside my heart.
Take off your shoes and stay the night
I need you by my side.

Oh love, you may not know it but I am a fool for your eyes.
The way you smile reminds me of warm summer forests,
I could explore it for hours on end.

I love you,
Goodnight

I've never had butterflies;
Nor have I feared goodbyes,
Or constantly questioned if my hair looked just right.
But I can't deny the way you make me feel.
It's like sand being collected in a bottle,
And over time it begins to overflow,
And the emotional bliss can no longer be contained.
It is so soon, so soon to be feeling this way.
But I have never felt this way before,
And I've never been more sure,
That I'm falling for you.
I've never had butterflies;
But when I'm with you
My heart splits right open,
And the sweet nectar of the rose where my heart is,
Attracts all the wonderful monarchs of the world.

Your eyes are breath taking,
Such as the peaks of a mountain, cloaked in snow
The cold is a comfort, not an interference
They are bright, sincere, and kind
And I am drawn to you like a bee to pollen.

Attraction is a concept many have abused
Such as drugs, and ***, and other things.
But I am attracted to you, a magnetic, fiery, sparking connection
You only read in stories.

But I feel you and I taste your essence
And it brings me comfort, where as others bring me digression.

You are essential
Like water that needs to hydrate dry bodies
And nourish growing trees.
I need you like the earth needs the sun
And how the moon needs the earth
And how humanity needs oxygen.
I thirst for you
Like a carnivore thirsts for blood
Or how she thirsts for pulls
Of cheap ***** on Monday nights.
You are the droplet of water running down the car window
As I look outside I barely see you
For I am mesmerized by the lights and the charisma
Of night.
Eventually as the sun begins to rise,
Waking the earth with her essential light
I notice you resting on the window.
My hands are very dry,
So I roll down the window
And rest my hand outside
Feeling the cool drops of you
Quench my need for love
That I feel I'll never fully
Receive.

I love the nights when the sky melts in the sea and they appear to be one.
The boats in the harbor seem to be floating peacefully among the stars.
These are the moments I feel amazing.
These summer nights remind me of the world's natural beauty
And remind me to appreciate the little things
Like car rides and ice cream.

Look into my eyes and tell me it's alright.
Hold me by my heart and tell me I'm alive.
I don't know who you are,
And you don't know me,
But I think about you and that time we saw all there was to see.
I'm sick of the weather and I'm sick of these people.
I'm sick of pretending I don't care when I don't see you.
Take me by the hand and guide me to the light,
Or push me on the bed and say goodnight.

I don't speak my thoughts, I only write them down,
Only because I can't speak out loud.
When I speak, I stutter, or barely make a sound.

-speaks my thoughts-
"I don't like that."
"No, you're right. I'm sorry."

Your lips were a pinch of color smeared on a blank canvas
And I wanted nothing but to find the exact hue.
I clung to you like the know is clinging to the branches,
But I'll melt away eventually.
Your voice was like the melancholy tone of my old guitar,
I adored the sound but I always wanted more.

You and I, we are like cups of water.
People drink us when they need to feel clean,
They drink us when they need to feel satisfied.
They use us in recipes and to cleanse their bodies.
But never are we their favorite drink.
You are the water to my body.
You make up 75% of me.

It still hurts when your name runs through my head,
Not as sharply as it used to but the pain is still there
faintly, like the words I never said,
Although words lose their strength over time.
Even your name lost that old, familiar chime that used to ring
but it has lost its luster and I am perfectly okay
With each passing year and each dragging day.
However, I can't help but feel sadder in the winter
because that's when you told me
You needed to discover
New places and new people.
I told you that I loved you only twice when I was with you
But each time I glanced into your eyes I hope you knew.
I bet you knew.
So, it still hurts when your name runs through my head,
And I can't help but imagine what we would be
If you reciprocated the feelings and pulled your arms around me.
The faint whisper of your name sometimes puts me to sleep,
So I hope that you saw all you needed to see.

The sky is pastel, and makes me feel happy,
Although my day is turning more and more upside down as the day progresses.
I am so unaware of who I am and what contains me,
Yet I am so sure that I am who I am supposed to be.
Adolescence is a dumb thing, because it causes me to lose sight of things I was often so sure of.
I hold my future in an unsure hand, trembling as I begin to feel my fingers wrap around it,
Not yet obtaining it, but most definitely acknowledging it's existence.
I cannot see it, for I am standing in the road with a blindfold on,
Looking like a complete and udder idiot, holding out a shaking hand as I struggle to grasp onto some undefined object that controls my every thought.
I feel embarrassed, and I feel dumb,
But people do not notice me.
They are doing the same as me.
Everyone is standing out on this road, with a blindfold on, as they attempt to grasp onto this foreign object that shapes their every motive.
Some people grasp this object fully, and accept it for whatever texture it obtains.
Others, like me, are failing to fully wrap their fingers around this object.
I am blind, you see, and I can't tell if this object, my future, is large, or so small that I can barely see it.
I cannot tell if there is a car speeding up behind me, rushing through stop signs and yields and red lights,
I am blind.
I can't tell if this car will decide to hit me or not.
I cannot tell if this object will control me for the rest of my life.
I cannot tell if someday I will overcome my fear of the object, and drop it on the floor like I should.
But for now, I stand here, holding it out in front of me, letting it control my every move like I always have.
And I sit here and I realize why it is that I write about myself more than I write about anyone else.

Memories fade
As fast as sugar dissolves in my tea
And I feel myself do absolutely nothing about it.
I'm caught inside myself, some deep, silver trance,
And I can't crawl out of it.
Because I see you leaving, with the storm,
And the clouds are dry heaving because they don't know what else to do.
Should I prepare my goodbye, or should I hold on tight,
To someone I hold dearly in my heart?
Stories are Stories,
And love is love,  whether it's young or naive or both.
So if this is a novel,
A big detailed adventure, of my story and of my home,
How do I tell, if this chapter is long,
Or if it Is merely a page long?
I cannot tell, and neither can you,
So we are forced to sit on the frozen grass,
Remembering and forgetting the past,
And realizing nothing is sure.
So I plead to rest my words,
Silence my tongue,
Before the cold comes.