I am a makeup artist,
Hiding tears behind my masterpiece.

I can draw you smiles,
Paint you laughter,
Doodle you little dimples,
Glue glitter to your eyes.

I am a makeup artist,
don't be afraid.

I do it to myself all the time.

Lately I have lacked a great deal of inspiration to write...
Why is it? Why can't words flow in my head? Is this even right ?

It is said that a person picks up a pen when they're falling in love or their heart has shattered...

I love you
and I'll stay

I know it's cold at times, but I'll cover you with a blanket of warm words, and you could close your eyes and I'll hold your hands tight.

I miss you
and I'll wait

I know you were crying hopelessly at night, but I'll collect your tears and will drink them like holy water, and tell you, we'll survive.

I need you
and I'll pray

I know nothing feels real, and You're afraid that I'll break you, but what I would only ever want to break is this silence between us.

I feel you
and I'll always

be there, to understand you, to read you, to see you, to aid you, to hold you, to be with you, to kiss you, to love you

You're eyes my favorite get away
My face mirrors yours
As the sides of your mouth turn to a grin
And I know
Your kindness and heart
Shine from within
As your spirit leads you
I know only good directions...
Oh how I love
Such a true soul
Who could make me radiate at my lowest points
And guided my through seas too rough
I don't know what I'd do without
My other half
To adventure these roads ahead
And keep me from losing myself again

No one really has answers—
Just stories.

I became your favorite obsession
I wondered if my last hour had come.
I am not alive until you called,
In an hour or two my cell phone becomes as hot as I am.
Take me, break me, I can’t be obedient,

I want to feel whole again…
without looking over my shoulder.
Oh my wounded and troubled heart
My soul is in deep anguish,
Without this forceful conquest

Within my eyes, jealousy wedge deep
Because of my self-critical thoughts,
My early rejections, my feeling, thoughts and action:

Our grandmother’s words came to be fulfilled
“An old fashion botheration,
   My indulgence from my past,
This led to an old fashion romance,
That wasn’t resolved then or now.

Take this kiss from my lip
And in return take off your glasses
and let me see your weary eyes
You are not wrong, my jealousy is a disease

If life had be kinder to us,
I would have been yours,
And you would have been mine.
I would have been the slave to you,

I stood by the window, and stare down at couples walking by
holding hands and I thought about them and I think about us:
Making further plans and I waved my hand to them
and smile because love is a lie.

heart of darkness encounter of lies
I have paid my dues, I settled my tithes.

How can I tell my heart to stop loving him?
I became his favorite obsession, now he’s mine
Take me, break me, I can’t be obedient,
I want to feel whole again, my friend

My wounded and troubled heart,
My soul is in deep anguish,
without this forceful conquest
So why do I weep in my sleep?

My God of refuge, what was the hidden truth?
I played with fire, and now I am burnt.