April blossoms bless my ears,
as she sings of falling leaves and snow.
Summer lives in every utterance;
Every note fulfils my soul.

Fairgrounds on the meadow glade.
Cloudless blue, and the green below...
I see it all behind her eyes; The skies
are Springtime when I hear those notes.

Vivaldi claims that seasons change,
and begin with falling leaves and snow.
When she sings, why then is it Spring?
The leaves fall fast, but the blossoms fall slow
in time with her voice, and my heart so aglow.

Words are just words.
Though they move with a flow
to match the rivers of my soul.

Though they bend like my bow.
Though they showcase it all:
The love. The hurt.
They're just words.

Though they sing like my strings,
though they can be sung; they sing
hollow;

My strings and my bow
prove to me words are words.
Why then, do these phrases
showcase my soul?

My violin is my muse,
and I know it seems obtuse
to say that words are just words.
But I wish I could play for you all.

Then you'd see my soul
in crescendo...
                     Not simply this piece of the whole.

When my Juliet calls, and my soul is weary.
I briefly fold, and long to follow that path I can't attempt.
Sweet dagger, pierce my heart, and let our embrace shake the stars,
But the will to live wins over a world without a Capulet

It's the hardest decision that I'm never going to get,
because the path of least resistance is
the path I can't accept.
It's because my life is never ready.
The poison's on her lips already.
Hands are shaking, Blade is steady.
Sweet dagger, pierce my heart,
and gift to me this path of sweet regret.

      Romeo is cold and weary,
     Oblivion is singing cheery
                 Songs for
            what he longs for
             and the night;
             and the blade
              shines alight
with blood so cold and wet.

She watches them together,
as her breath stops with a catch,
and her heart aches, pulled by tethers
made of love and lonely sadness.

He laughs. Briefly she can't help
but think that they'd be better.
She watches by herself,
and slowly drives herself to madness.

There are 10 kinds of people in this world,
and binary accounts for them all.

They're happy and sad.
They're ones and zeros.
Villains and heroes.
Villains, yet not all bad.
Despite everything life decides to hurl;
Despite every brick ball of fear
Through the stained glass windows of their minds,
Through it all, they survive.
They're angry and glad.
They're happy and sad.

And in their duality, they're still smiling there
at your sharp hasty words
at your venomous hurt
that you wish so desperately they, too, shared.

And I
want you to realize
what your lashes hide away.

And I
want to be behind those eyes
when you look at me that way.

And I
feel my irises dilate, and my glance falls astray
from those orbs that mesmerize and catastrophize
my love struck brain,

And I
Just wonder, as my heartbeat flies...
As my gaze takes in the flush of your cheeks... (as I flush mine)
Though that gaze won't dare rise
to those laughing stars on your face.
I wonder... Tell me, since I'm suddenly shy.
Do your eyes... does your heart dilate the same?