There's something forested in the outskirts of me.
Somewhere deep in the dark,
hiding in a damp acoustic cave,
  is a frightened innocent,
   hoarding all my good memories,

                                        Just waiting.

The behinds of my eyes search for her.
All my words attach to her limbs and guide her out in the open
but she she snaps back inside like an elastic band.

She's so far gone. I ache.

My feet are pink
And when it's cold outside they shrink
But they also sometimes stink
And when the tide comes in they sink

I run with them and hike with them
And when they're stubborn fight with them

They carry me away to tread in ancient soil
That feeds on death;  

Those feet that point straight up to the sky
From behind their eyelids they cry dry
For those heels and toes and soles had souls
That came and went now have to lie

So I don't know why
I can't sit still
And I  can't tell you  why
I sometimes walk in heels that I can't run in

Make me feel free
Because I'm so afraid you'll bury me

Who to talk to where to turn
What path to take
What bridge to burn

Red light yellow light green light
What lesson did I just learn?

Maybe stay planted and one day you'll feed the plants.
Or run and run and run and run and run and run and feed the plants.

I had a big stage.
Set to the grizzly backdrop of rural Stephen King.
Posts for streets and persecution for people.

But I've seen the suns light bend to the curvature
of the sky's massive hands.
And share the illumination like they were
gifts from no one in particular.
So, bright and light yet pregnant with inspiration
that the ideas refracted off the green grass
and stretched out for the rest of my life
and yours.
The people grew branches
and bloomed blossoms and
smelled of crisp forgiveness.
And you were there, and you and you.

Amidst the plenty I still can't find the one.
It's a cold gaping eternal nothing wearing a custom tailored suit that stares me straight in face some mornings and hits me in the stomach some nights. But in between the some's are often's and in the eyes of someone I love I am cherished often, inhaled as frequently as possible, danced with whenever the moment allowed, kissed with every breath, in every style and any location with so much feeling as to round up the sea and the sky and entice the wind to blow us a kiss too, I am in tears

To everything I will be.
To everything I see in you.
To your friends.
To the people who did you wrong and oh so right.
To your lovers.
To the one who got away; I love her for pushing you away.
I love her anyway.
To everything I was afraid of.
To everywhere I am lacking.
To being enough of one thing,
that it makes up for all things.
To being.
To touching your feet. To melting in your breath. To munching on my skin.
To watching you love me.
To hurting my heart. To me "getting it".
To letting the past lay in peace.
To making way for something greater. To loving unconditionally.
To my childhood. To yours.
To us. Our talents. Our songs. Our mementos. Our way.
To the mindless goings on of day to day life. We WILL treasure our love notes.
Your friends will love the you I get to grow old with.
My friends will love the me you're turning me into.
Our friends will love us.
I play this beautiful scenario in my head often: It goes:
We dance          We meet the rest of the world
*We play             *They keep us
No particular order and the ellipses between each are expansive.
Night will cover us and in our bodies we'll blanket one another.
Despite the worst. It wasn't that bad. Despite all things.
I love you. I kiss you. I fall for you. I hold you. I treasure you.
Love me and I will sing all your favorites.
Compile my love into notes, novels, songs and the ever impressive smile
that you found me in the very very first time.
Tonight you will find me again. Confident. Beautiful. Billy Joel.
I'll always have a way about me.
Just like home is just another word for you.