Don't choose the one who's beautiful to the world

But the one who makes your world beautiful.

I am not the author of my thoughts nor am I the poet whose poems you read.
I am only a vessel through which life exists; a witless witness of what befalls this body and mind.
Please excuse my false pride,
Forgive me my claims of titles and names.
I am merely the ghost in the machine within which I experience taste, touch, sight, smell and the chaos of clarity of mind.  
I once knew with the certainty of the lost that I was the master of this universe,
Now I bow my head in pious recognition of defeated acceptance. Life is not to be lived,
Life is to be survived.
Free will is a conception of man's need and desire for order in a land where particles too small to be seen or felt rule with the supremacy of god.
We are nothing more than fish in the sea unaware of the ebbs and flows of the ocean around us in response to a moon we cannot even conceptualize.
There is peace in that thought;
If you can accept your insignificance you will realize how little that lost love matters for what is love but a micro atomic reaction to a cosmic event that happened light years from earth,
In which you were the victim of a joke you can't even understand.

I wanted to say
the moon seemed
so bright
day became night
in perfect silence
and the stars were born
into madness, into light

you appeared and I
wanted to know

I want to trace
your lips
with a feather
and kiss them right,
take flight,
and never land
without you.

they sat at the second table from the left.
four girls; one with curly hair to her knees, one with a heart for running, and two who love basketball.
I tried to fit in.
I failed.
a poet is not a dancer.
a poet is not a runner.
a poet is not a basketball player.
a poet is a poet.
I hated this table.
it gave me chills.
I walk past the table, because they cannot hurt what isn't in their reach.

I prefer her
Over the bucket list
Her soft sweet voice
Over the deafening roar
The warmth of her unexpected touch
To the sting of the frigid wind
Hours waiting
Over the free-fall
The view into her blue eyes
Better than all of God’s green Earth
The relationship
Dwarfs the experience
Her smile followed by the laugh
To the cackle of the fat man on my back
Resting in peace facing the sun
Instead of flying alone into the ground
Sharing a drink full of germs
To scraping the dirt when I land
She is exhilarating
But more trustworthy than the fabric and strings
I prefer her