I have learned that the earth is a beautiful place.
It is full of mystery, color, uniqueness, and vivid, lush life.
I feel honored as an individual to experience this world with a human mind and capability of thinking.
I feel blessed to be a human and able to fully comprehend my thoughts,
And reflect my feelings upon others,
In order to hopefully influence them to appreciate this knowledge as well.
However, as much as I feel blessed,
I do also feel disgusted and upset,
That the human race as a whole is capable of so much destruction and violence.
A majority of us are sick minded, and not capable of experiencing love for anything but themselves.
We must look past this thought,
And appreciate.
As living beings we must only appreciate and love,
And then we will gain full happiness.
As humans we can feel beautiful emotions,
Sense beautiful sensations,
And think of masterful things.
We can feel with such a vivid capability and yet none of us take a moment to actually appreciate that.
Humanity is beautiful, if we make it.
Humanity is disgusting, if we make it.
All my life I have appreciated the world and the universe with such an intense power that I have forgotten to appreciate myself.
I am hoping with time that I will be able to see that I myself,
Am a beautiful world within this world,
And finally be happy.

Revelation sinks in,
Like poison.
Calming at first, then
Turning violent,
Harsh,
Painful,
And sad.
You do not want me anymore, and the elixir of your love ceases to cleans my brain.
For now I am vulnerable, left out to die,
Without your sincere words of encouragement,
How will I survive?
How will I learn to move on, when all I wanted was you?
How will I recover from death, as this venom slowly kicks in?
How will I reverse time, and stop myself before I saw you,
When your soft blue eyes met mine,
The world stopped,
Just one time.
How will I make you change your mind?
There is no reversing death, though.
And change occurs without a jury telling it not to.
For the poison has almost knocked me unconscious now.
So please, before I go,
Know this,
I hate you.

You are the sliver of navy blue in my crimson and golden colored sky.
You might not be very noticeable, but without you the sunset would not be complete, and I could not properly transfer it onto a canvas.
You are the warm sun on a fresh spring afternoon.
I don't particularly like spring, but the glimmer of light is enough to put a smile on my face, and it may even make my day a bit brighter.
You are the mint after a cigarette.
Small, refreshing, and relieving.
You are the warm breath on soft skin,
The goodbye after a long day,
The hug you've long desired.
You are the sunrise, **** the sunset.
You're new and exciting.
You are the first droplet of rain.
You are the mistakes, the compromise, and the solutions all in one.
You are promising.
You are possibly the most magical thing I have ever seen.
You are possibly what I need.

And nothing comes easy anymore.
No words in my mind can form into sentences,
Just as the victim struggles with her words as the man dressed in black holds a knife to her throat.
She knows what to say, but she just can't stop the image of her head falling off her body from playing in her mind.
so with this thought I decide to check the time
Only to see that it is limited
and I can't formulate my thoughts into readable words.
I want the word to understand the beauty inside my mind,
Before this man decides to dig his blade into my skin and end my life.
I can see humanity suffocating under the hand of technology,
With nothing to save us but our minds,
But our minds are flooded with misery.
So will we be saved or is this damage already too thick?
Is it time to be content with this lack of air,
Or should I request to have my throat slit open
To make up for it?

I tried watering a plant to find it was already dead
She spoke to god but found out his voice was only in her head
I cut my hair in hopes of reinventing my appearance
She sliced her wrists in hopes of losing her existence
I sang songs to the ocean hoping someone would hear me
She tied a rope around her neck trying to set herself free      
I washed my hands in hopes of making them clean
She often wonders what it's like to be buried 6 feet deep
The thing about death is that it's always on our minds,
It's just a matter who's ready for it and who's wishing for more time.

I’m sorry but I’m actually going to begin reevaluating my life. I need to buckle down, and just get things straight for once. I can’t continue wasting my time with pointless, mindless things. I need substance. I am going to improve academically and just **** all social insecurities. I’ll be out of this town in about a year, I can handle a year of solitude. I find it easier that way, anyways. So, I’m sorry for being a ****** person. But I’m not going to apologize for anything anymore, because if you don’t like me, don’t like my concern, don’t like my emotions, and most certainly don’t like the person I’ve become, then I don’t think you are worthy of another apology.

I'd tell you I love you but I'm not sure if it will hurt me,
To open up like a window and let all the insects fly in once again.
For it took a while to get them out.
I do not like the chemicals from the fumigation,
And I surely don't like having these organisms inside of me.
But there is something about this weather we're having that is very tempting.
I feel myself letting go of all fears and inhibitions,
I feel myself opening my windows.
So if I let you in I know you will hurt me,
And if you come inside I know I might hurt you.
I might close the window while you are still flying in,
Snap you in half and nearly **** you,
But I at least let half of you inside.

I see you going places
While I am stuck here,
Rattled with fear,
Absorbed with the thought of losing you.

You consume me in pain and you know how to
And I'm not sure if it's more tragic that I give in to it,
Or that you torment me to begin with.
Because each time this happens to me I just take it like a stone,
Being pushed down a hill with no set destination.
I let you kick me and toss me,
Sometimes into a soft grassy area,
And others times into a cold body of water.
And I should be buoyant,
I should know how to float.
But I always thought porous, buoyant objects were the weakest.
So with that said I can tell you something about myself:
I thought that being heavy and dull would get me by.
But little did I realize that lighter objects,
Are able to soar through the air in a way I'll never know.
They can float and regain composure,
And eventually dry themselves off.
However, I'm just sinking.
Whether it be in a puddle, in mud,
Or to the bottom of a lake.
And from there, I will continue to sink,
Lower and lower,
Into the depths of the murky, grotesque, filth that coats the bottom of this lake.
And now I am here, in this pile of filth.
And you would think that I'd try and pick myself up,
That I'd attempt to make myself float,
But no.
Instead, I will rest here for eternity and make this **** my home.
I'll learn the names of each organism, and possibly help them grow.
I will pretend that it's fine,
When plant life grows on me,
And when I become the layer on the bottom of the lake.
And when it is time for me to perish,
I will accept this sentence with complete and utter confidence,
And already have the advantage of being halfway sunken underground,
So I can rest six feet under with ease.
Instead of being thrusted one last time,
Soaring through the air, basking in the knowledge that when I land I will perish.
No,
I am already here.
I have already accepted this fate.
And possibly, if you try to consume me once again,
In a fiery consumption of misery and despair,
I will not catch a flame.
For I am concerned in muck,
Wet, disgusting debris,
And am no longer flammable.

I found that realizing you have to move on is about as tragic as becoming sick of your favorite song.
You still feel inclined to listen to it from time to time,
No matter how much you know you don't want to or need to.
It's upsetting and unfortunate, but you just to pull through it,
And live a life without music for a little while.

I’m sorry but I’m actually going to begin reevaluating my life. I need to buckle down, and just get things straight for once. I can’t continue wasting my time with pointless, mindless things. I need substance. I am going to improve academically and just **** all social insecurities. I’ll be out of this town in about a year, I can handle a year of solitude. I find it easier that way, anyways. So, I’m sorry for being a ****** person. But I’m not going to apologize for anything anymore, because if you don’t like me, don’t like my concern, don’t like my emotions, and most certainly don’t like the person I’ve become, then I don’t think you are worthy of another apology.

What even is honesty anymore?
I surely do not know.
Because we all seem to be hiding something from one another.
It's tragic, really.

Take my hand and take me away.
Show me thing the things I never will truly see.
I want to see the way you blink, the way you breathe, and the way you fix your hair after the wind gently messes with it.
As my presence gently messes with your mind.
Sometimes I wonder if passion is real,
Or if we're all pretending to be obsessed with activities that don't even matter.
Maybe in the end we all die miserable.
I want to know where the sun is.
I want to know how you see me.
I wish to see the way the stars glisten in the fields in the middle of the country.
I just want to know if the sun sets the same way that it does here.
You have no ocean;
How do you breathe?

Someone once told me that when you crave something, it's your body's way of telling you that you need it.
So tonight when I crave your presence, I must need it.
We have crossed universes before, telling each other stories without using words;
Sharing secrets between the lips and bed sheets.
I wish I could tell you these thoughts and how your lips still seem foreign
However many times they meet mine, they still seem forbidden.
I wish I knew the secrets you keep, even though I can taste them in my dreams,
And the rare times they escape out of your mouth.
However, I have difficulty distinguishing your words.
I often see you in my dreams, confessing every thought and every concern in my being,
But you just whisper that you love me,
As if you're haunting me.

And I feel it now,
The rushing guilt, the sickening doubt,
The feelings I never wished to feel again.
And words are sprouting, growing, and shouting, from their captivity inside my head.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, I'm not sure where I'm going,
I know that surely I am growing,
I know that rhyming is nothing
But a pattern.

So if everyday was a challenge,
And every breath was a risk,
Why does humanity continue to live?
As these thoughts absorb you, and these questions envelope you,
Into some foreign core.
I will continue to nourish some unknown object,
The unknowing of what is to come.

And if I were to personify every action and every word,
Would I drive myself insane?
Because bringing feelings and emotions into your eyes is surely something I cannot seem to obtain.

Do you notice the drifting?
Do you recognize the time?
Do you often wonder about the first time you saw me?
Because I think about you often, and the small things.
Like the feeling you get when you see the rain.

There are millions to billions of emotions associated with every word of this sentence.
Am I the one to judge how you feel,
When I can't even uncover the meaning behind my words?

We are as simple as rain and a tree
No double looks, no second glances, nothing to see
You are magnificent, you just don’t know it
I come every once in a while to make you show it
I seep into your veins, and watch you grow
Only to come and **** you, later, as snow
You stick true to your ground, growing and dying alike
I come down and ruin people’s lives

We are as simple as rain and a tree
Just nature at it’s finest, nothing to see
You provide your warmth, your body, your love to everyone else
And I will be here to nurture, and watch you sprout
I will come when you need me, leave when you don’t
Only to see that you still don’t know
You stick true to your ground, growing and dying alike
But you don’t know yourself, and it’s killing you inside

We are as simple as rain and a tree
Living in misery, yet nothing to see
You are beautiful and your essence shows it
I try to tell you, but you just don’t know it
I will be here until the end of time
You will stay, and I will watch you die
You stayed true to your friends, and the people you loved
But you neglected yourself and perished in doubt
That day I cried like no one else

We were as simple as rain and a tree
I loved you and you loved me

There are things that **** us,
like cigarettes, bad food, and deodorants
But we still abuse them and take advantage of their existence.
There are things that help us,
Like parents, fitness, friends, and lovers
But they'll still **** us anyways.
Life is not life without death by its side and I'm not sure if I'll ever figure out why.
And if I **** myself with my tar filled lungs and tendencies to eat terrible things on the weekends,
Then so be it.
While you sit there and eat all of your organic greens and go to the gym three times a week,
You'll die just like the rest of us.
We all have things in common, things that bind us and things that blind us,
So why is it that our way to die is what defines us?

Maybe we are poets
Maybe we are doomed
Maybe we are determined
Maybe you're my muse
Maybe I'm a dancer
Maybe I'm a lover
Maybe this is more
Maybe this is less
Maybe I was meant to hold your hand
Maybe I'm just dead
Maybe we kissed
Maybe we messed up
Maybe this is something
Maybe I'm sick in the head
Maybe I'm in love
Maybe I'm confused
Maybe I'm just searching
Maybe I've been lost
Maybe I found comfort
Maybe I did not
Maybe we're meant to love
Maybe we're meant to break
Maybe this will make sense
Maybe I'll never know
Maybe it'll be okay

By nature, we are spiritual.
Humanity: we praise each other, we praise higher powers,
We worship idols, deities, money, and fashion.
I have no hope for us, anymore.
For we used to be spiritual and truly believe,
We used to see with eyes instead of lenses,
Touch with hands instead of phrases,
Love with meaning and not with numbers,
Pray to something other than computers.
We used to worship our earth and the land provided,
But now we just sink into seats of leather,
Use a remote and stare at moving pictures.
We are no longer innovative, intelligent, or simple,
Instead we are overflowing with unnecessary knowledge that only benefits our outer aesthetics.
We no longer think with our minds but with devices in our hands,
That not only think and talk for us but have become us.
We are no longer humans,
We are no longer animals.
We are fake, processed chemicals.
We might as well be genetically modified fruits.
We are programmed and brain washed
That our way of thinking is incorrect,
That we are unable,
That we are obsolete.
We are no longer humans but merely gods ourselves,
making us question everything including the existence of it all.
If we are truly beautiful creatures why is earth a living hell?
We are spiritual by nature but how can we believe
in anything when all we know is me?

It's hard to believe every word that you said, every lie that you fed,
Was nothing but ******* and lies.
But day after day, I observe the way
You respond but never try.
It's hard to believe I actually thought everything you said was true,
But how could I not, all I ever wanted was you.
It's a story that's been said, that's been stuck in my head,
Over and over again.

Over and over again I fall for you.
Over and over again I cry for you.
Over and over again I pray for you.
Over and over again are we.

Give me your attention, spare me your time,
I need to know someday you could be mine.
Minutes turn to hours, days to weeks,
But somehow when I'm with you, I cannot speak.
Why is it that I can't tell you how I feel?
When this awful situation is such a constant ordeal?
Are you playing games, am I insane?
Why is every word constantly replayed in my brain?
Maybe you just don't like me, or maybe I'm not worth your time,
Over and over again,
I question if you're mine.

And I found that sadness isn't a gradual process.
It's instantaneous, like a cold wave of salt water flushing you under,
Drowning you for a few moments, and you're in shock.
You ask yourself, "Am I drowning?" and, "Is this really the end?"
And then you begin to panic.
You cannot see, for the salt burns your eyes, and you aim blindly for the surface.
Your lungs feel heavy, suddenly,
And you begin to lose your breath.
And in that moment, you reach the surface.
The surface isn't promising, for it's a blinding, white light,
And your eyes have a difficult time adjusting to the light.
They may never fully adjust, really.
And then you wish you had drowned,
Because for some reason the water changed you,
And you cannot fully learn to breathe,
And your eyes never fully adjust,
So you're stuck being this numb, blind, asthmatic person for the rest of your time.
There's no going back either,
Once you're hit, you're hit.
It's not a gradual process.

There is something wrong with my brain.
I constantly tell myself to do the right thing,
But my ideas are irrational and my words are not words;
They are pictures carved out from memories my mind has somehow stolen.
There are spiders, and creatures, and storms crashing through my mind,
And there is no moon in my head that can control this tide.
So I sit here and watch myself rot and go insane,
As I constantly wonder what's wrong with my brain.

Why is there a difference between different and unique?
Because both sound pretty strange to me.
If I was called either one, or both, I think I would be equally as insulted.

Why are there different seasons which each one containing a different mood?
Did anyone ask Autumn is she minded being unacknowledged? And what about Winter, Winter is often neglected too.

What is appreciation without passion?
What is passion without love?
What is love without kindness?
What is kindness without appreciation?

So what happened to harmony with every living being?
Because if you ask me, it seems to have disappeared.
Humans are not much different than a tree,
Other than the fact we can see.

But trees can see far more than we,
For they feel every single thing.
Humans have a tendency of erasing the feelings and emotions that they dislike,
But without those feelings, how can we appreciate?

Maybe these people who are outcasts labeled "different" and "unique", whatever the difference in them may be,
Maybe they know something you don't.
Maybe they know more about the trees.

Love is a beautiful thing.
Love is compassionate, love is forgiving,
Love is unpredictable.
Then again, so is pain.
Pain is harsh, pain is cruel,
Pain is unpredictable.
Pain and love go hand and hand,
But love is deceiving.
Love comes in masked as a lovely odor.
It smells like a cool breeze sometimes,
At other times cheap candles and rose petals,
And at other times asphalt.
Love, however, leaves just as soon as it comes.
Love will knock on your door, and you will embrace it will arms wide open.
You don't know why you do, but you do.
Love nurtures you, and comforts you,
And makes you feel special.
But love is selfish.
Love will leave.
And when love leaves pain will come up right behind you,
Pick you up off the ground,
Clean up your mess,
Help you to your bed,
And let you cry.
Pain doesn't embrace you.
Pain surely does not love you.
But pain will listen to you.
And once pain slowly makes its way towards your door,
On a warm sunny day,
You won't even notice it's departure.
You'll get out of bed,
Look outside,
And feel that cool breeze once again.

If I could, I would write you an epic in which I could explain all the ways I wish to fall into you.
I would paint you a beautiful mosaic in an elegant chapel, with symbols of eternal happiness.
If I could, I would be yours for as long as you'd wish to keep me;
Because your eyes are the most brilliant shade of serenity I have ever seen.

I guess maybe there's something wrong with me,
Because no matter how hard I try I can't seem to hold something for too long.
And I mean I guess that makes sense literally too, because when given something physical to hold,
I become aggravated, and drop it.
So maybe this is a test, or maybe it's a game.
But, either way, I don't know if I'll like the results.
You are a subject, in which I find difficult,
And no matter how much I inquire about help,
I still do not understand you.
I believe that is what drew me to you in the first place, though.
So I pray to some god I don't think exists,
Telling him that I need to sort out my ****,
Because if I set this one down, I swear on my life,
I will not ever forgive myself.
You are precious,
You are rare,
But somehow I feel like you're barely here.
And as the days go by, and progress into months,
How do I know that you'll stay?
How do I know that you won't set me down, like I have set down others?
How do I know what you do in your free time?
I cannot question your motives, because I know I will be disappointed.
So I sit on my *** and count the days until you notice
I'm falling apart.

There is a flower inside of you.
There is a light inside of you.
There is nothing you can do
to stop it from shining through.
That one night,
I said it was alright,
So we dropped every concern on the ground.
I never gave you my heart, and I'm not sure if I have yours,
and if I do, do not worry.
I will water you and hold you and tell you it's alright.
I'll show you the ways, make us forget all the pain,
And remember that strange summer day
We drove to the sea.
So take my hand,
I'll show you the ways,
And we'll build a castle out in the forest.
You'll be okay,
And so will I.
Life is just funny, sometimes.
Let's just settle our roots,
Take off our shoes,
And remember that there's a flower inside of me, too.

The moon comes out eventually, as it's rival forces her out.
She sits there while the night surrounds her, making her cold and anxious.
"The Earth is a cruel place," A distance star whispers as she suddenly appears in the night sky.
The moon looks at Earth, her distant cousin and shrugs.
"She seems alright to me." Replies the moon.
"What do you mean?" The star asks.
The moon sighs and responds, "The Earth isn't the cruel one, Star. It's the people she made. Those people, her children, are destroying her from the inside out. They aren't even aware of what they're doing."
The star looks at the Earth and then back at the moon. The moon struggles to remain composed as she sees her cousin get eaten alive in the nightlife.
"Maybe you should do something." Says the star.
The moon sighs and replies, "There's nothing I can do, it's too late."

It comes all at once,
Like a bullet to the head,
Or a pill to your bloodstream,
Or water from a faucet.
And when it happens it hurts,
Like bright lights to adjusting pupils,
Cold water to a warm body,
Or a sharp object to soft skin.
Reality.

This feeling
Is unfamiliar
Yet so right
It hurts
But not painfully
But joyfully
And I can't muster words

To tell you
How I feel for you
How I taste you
How I can't resist

You
Are something
Else

Hear me,
Feel me,
Taste me,
No.
Scold me,
Abuse me,
Let
     me
         go.

I'm intoxicated.
This evening is magical.
But I cannot remember my name.
Who am I?
What is this life?
Who says I live while I watch others die?
I do not understand the higher power that dropped me here.
Why me, of all people?
Why should I stay here and watch others suffer, when I cannot do anything to help?
I just want everything to be happy.
It is Christmas morning;
I do not want gifts,
I do not want magic,
And I surely do not want snow.
I want peace on this earth,
And I want to know that death is something accomplished,
Rather than given.
Like a letter, of acceptance,
Rather than a letter of sentence.
I want the world to know that I love it.
I want all the people to know that I care.
I want the universe to know that I'm ready for it,
To take me away,
One soft summer day,
And to know,
Everything is okay.

I am in love with my life.
And there is absolutely nothing you can do to change that.

And I think about you from time to time
What you are possibly wearing and sometimes what's on your mind
And I wonder if your eyes still shine as bright.
It's hard to believe I was ever yours and that I was magically enchanted by you in any way.
You're kind and you're gentle
You're smart and you're subtle
But you're naive and you're selfish and I let it slide past.
If only I knew back then that you'd seem so silly to me now
With your goofy smile and your drunk texts and your late night calls.
It's not that I don't miss you,
Because I do.
I just don't think I need to admit that to myself right now.
So if you're there and you're thinking about my hair or my crooked teeth or my vacant eyes,
Just know I'm thinking about you only sometimes.

People are different, but yet they're the same,
With their forever entitled and fickle brains,
With their struggle with commitment and baggage they bare;
Secrets are always afraid to be shared.

You tell me you want me and you show it too,
However, I can't get a hold of you.

You're with me because you want to be.
I'm with you cause I need to be.
You're with me because you feel apathy.
I'm with you because I feel empathy.
You hate me,
I love you,
You kiss me,
I hug you.
Please let me know that you want this
Because I'm losing my grip on the handle
Of the door
We opened
When we first met.

If I were to leave this world, would you remember my name?
Would you know me as the girl who tried everything they could just to make you smile?
Would you remember me as a good friend,
Or a kind person?
Would you realize that you love me and that you regret not taking any chances?

If I were to leave this world, would you remember my face?
Would you remember the freckles that appear on my nose in the summer,
Or the shape of my nose,
Or even the expression in my eyes when I was truly happy?

If I were to leave this world, would you remember my tendencies?
Would you remember obscure sense of humor,
Or even the fact I was downright insane?
Would you remember my yearning for adventure,
And trying terrible things?
Would you hold it against me to this day?

If I were to leave this world, would you tell me the truth?
That every glance we make means something to you?
Would you remember how my heartbeat sped up every time someone mentioned your name,
Or how my face turns red every time I see your face?
Would you remember my attempts of showing affection and my terrible methods of flirting?
Would you finally say you feel the same way?

Would you at least remember my name?

And I remember the places I saw when I was a child
The dark basements I explored with the cans on the counters
And the dust particles floating around that I thought were little world's within themselves.
I remember the smell of my mother's perfume and how it gave me instant comfort and the way I could make up stories in my head and replay them until I fell asleep.
I remember falling asleep was something I dreaded because I wanted to see it all.
I wanted to build world's with pieces of plastic and touch the faces of my parents and look at cans on counters and wonder how they got there.
I remember the car rides and I'd sit in the backseat and never question the destination or the dangers ahead of me.
I remember having absolutely no anxiety.
I remember visiting my aunt and not questioning her bizarre, compulsive tendencies.
I remember feeling happy and free.
And now I run away from dark basements because I can smell the mold and the dust floating around makes me nauseous.
I am scared of my future and make sure to find out every destination.
I'm aware of too much and too oblivious to care.
I was always a sick, miserable kid I guess I just was never aware.

Maybe we're meant to deteriorate
Break apart and wash away.
All we are, and all we'll be is a story anyways.
And when that story is no longer told
We'll just be a name on a piece of rock,
Left underground to rot and deteriorate
Just like we were always meant to do.

If everything happens for a reason why am I breaking inside
But this break is nothing but a figment of the sensory motion of my mind
I do not feel anything at all
But when I'm with you I don't feel so small.
Because these moments pass like seconds and I can't stop thinking about the time
Wishing it didn't pass and that we were suspended in it.
But everything has its limits and everything ends
It's a tragic little world we live in, isn't it?
So I'll try and find the beauty in this life and appreciate what it is before it leaves
And if you feel the same that's surely okay with me.
We are lovers and we are dreamers, we seek the impossible limit,
But, if it's with you I've already been in it.

I'm falling down, like these leaves
On the ground
Where I belong.

So maybe we were meant to break each other's hearts,
Tear down our walls and rip ourselves apart.
No matter what it it's not going to end easily,
It's going to bring us to tears and leave us in a pool of misery.

However, I can promise you,
That no matter how terribly or beautifully this plays through,
I'll always be here for you.
I'll never do anything to hurt you.
And with that said, you may call me pathetic,
You can say I'm sick in the head for doing something like this again,
But heartbreak is okay.
We should never feel hopeless because we are human,
And we are able to heal no matter the circumstances.

So if I ever hurt you or if you destroy me,
Just know it's going to end beautifully.
We are merely flowers in a field of hope,
Sometimes the sun doesn't shine on us,
But that shouldn't make us not grow.

I can't keep sleeping in my sister's room hoping that you'll text me.
Part of me knows that you've completely left me.
I can't believe I let you slip away that night.
That night I just let you go,
Go drive away.

Everyday is the same.
I feel darkness and terror with the unknowing of life,
Uncertain of what I stand for, and what my purpose is.
But I feel that is normal, for a girl of my age.
With so much to offer, it just seems surreal,
In fact, nothing really feels real.
I wake up in the morning, quarter to 7,
And the one thing on my mind is, "Is this worth it?"
I think, "Is what I do even adding up to something?
"Is this life I live, a life at all?"
And I smile,
Because it does not matter.
Nothing matters, really.
You make me happy, and I like you.
And I like how I feel when I'm with you.
I like how it feels being in your arms,
How it feels when you talk, and I can feel the vibration of your voice through your shirt.
I am certain of two things,
I will die,
And I really, really like you.

My heart was once a butterfly flying youthfully through the air.
It did not care, it had no scars, it had no burdens, it had no strain.
One day this butterfly became curious, and danced around a black flower.
This flower was tempting, it's name was Love.
Love was poisonous.
Love sickened my butterfly, and it almost perished.
Eventually, the butterfly woke up. It picked itself up, told itself it was fine, and ventured forth, only to be knocked down again.
And again.
And again.
Because this Love was everywhere, and the butterfly no longer knew how to ignore it.
So it built a fort as tall as the sky, and hid behind it for a long time.

One day the flower flew over the wall, and landed beside the butterfly.
The butterfly couldn't quite tell if it was Love or not, but it felt content.

That was the day I met you.

The world is quiet first thing in the morning.
I feel content in those moments, I feel no anxiety.
The world breathes with us,
It inhales when we do, exhales for us when we don't,
But it does not stop when we do.
It never will.

We became familiar with this lifestyle, with these people, and these smells.
Someday they will leave us, and I can't quite grasp why they will.
We dream of places of beauty and desire,
At night when our sad eyes finally retire.

So let us be human and let us continue to breathe.
Because someday when our lungs decide to kick, we will probably miss the feeling.
The taste of fresh air lets me know you're still here
In my blood, in my lungs, and in my heart.

To become content with death is something I don't think we ever will be,
But until then I'm content with being me.
So let the wind come in through my window and
Knock down all the pictures and all my trinkets on the windowsill.  
Let the air inhale through my body and let the world exhale it out.

The silence absorbs us, as drunken bodies connect
And I feel my judgement slip from my head, and to the floor.
I feel passion overcome me, as my heart is racing, telling me to slow down.
But love is a force that drives me crazy, and at this point there's no control anymore.
And at the time it seems right, and my heart feels fine,
Knowing that you are mine as long as we last.
But there will be a day, when my dreams slip away,
Like how my judgement slipped to the floor.