Arms invite your embrace
Your warmth spreads outward like a wildfire
The rhythmic exchange of the invisible life force dancing to the song of your heartbeat
And I can feel it
The song
It plays hard and passionately and begins to alter the meaning of my own melody
Calling me
Pulling my attention away from my demons
My happy sad
I trace the ripped edges of your being with my fingertips
Slowly mapping the masterpiece before me
The ups and downs of desire diluted by a divider
A wall
A transparent one
And the transparency of your truths shimmer not unseen through the veil of pure ecstasy
My happy sad
I break the veil
Brushing away the curtain fallen over your eyes
And I see
Nothing but emotion
Raw, timeless emotion lost in the treasure island of your mind, clambering to an escape
I grasp for your hand, that sweet instrument of divinity
And I trace the map
My map
My explanation
My happy sad
And you smile
Not at the map
Not at me
But at my soul
Eyes piercing to the depths of me
And suddenly, I see you
Like clouds uncovering a full moon
I notice the mayhem surrounding
And I want to cry just looking at you
My Happy Sad

why is it that
you still plague my mind

even thought i'm sure that
i've erased you?

you must think i'm stupid, huh?
i saw you for what you were,
yet still i went for the ****.
but the joke was on me.
you were the gasoline and i was
the match.
the flames you emitted engulfed me.
i never had the chance of coming out alive,
and you knew that.
you devoured me whole.
i ignited you, but you burnt me.
if only you hadn't smoldered me with your deadly charm.

{d.f. - 09/02/17}

why do we still do it
when we know nothing good comes out of it?

you should do it now
but i don't want toooooooo
get it over with
i'll do it laterrrrrrrrr
don't push it back another hour, another day
i'll find time to do ittttttttt

and eventually, we all just become addicted to it
and those who can quit by themselves,
are the ones who are truly talented.

love,
our story is
different.
it is not like
all of the other
stories that
fill up libraries
and occupy
the minds of
people on this
earth.

love,
our story is
beautiful.
it is not absolutely
flawless or
perfect
but yet,
its imperfections
are what makes
it different.

love,
our story is
unique.
it is not at all
cliche or
normal
but yet,
its craziness
is what makes
it beautiful.

love,
our story is
ours.
it is not, will not
be anyone
else's
and still
its characters
are what makes
it different,
beautiful,
unique,
and  ours.

and love,
i love
our story.

you work hard
   to do things right
and get kicked in the teeth
   ever so often
by people who cannot see
   beyond their pug-nosed selves

yet you continue
secretly hoping that
   somehow  sometime
someone will recognize
   your efforts

one day
   after yet another kick in the teeth
you decide you have had it

you do not stop trying

you just know
that you do

   not

   really

   need

their recognition

         * *