I'll never be more disappointed in the words
Their job is to conglomerate into cohesive, coherent expressions
Always, they've done this for me
True, their message has changed
But their capacity to carry out meaning, order, and a clear, articulate thought has been unwavering
But I turn to them now and they are clumsy, weak, light, and foreign
I fumble on these useless and tiresome words as I think up a way to communicate to you just what it is you mean to me
I love you
Is white noise
Every combination is an understatement
Photos can't capture it
My paintings can't replicate it
This love demands to be felt and that is all I can do
With every intracacy and nuance of my existence, every book I ever read, every lesson I've ever learned, everything I was, am, and will be, ever aspect of my being, every ounce of my soul, all that I have
Because I can't translate it to words, I will have to suffice in keeping it in it's rawest form
And while I will never be able to express it to consummation,
I feel so wholely and genuinely in love with you

One more season we pass through
Remaining me, remaining you
While some things never change
Others are set in an opposite motion
Hurtling continuously, inevitably, inherently toward "change"
I know we'll never be the same now just as we will never be who we were at the end of summer. But winter is coming and spring and I can't we to see who we become. Who we've been. Who we are. I'm fine with change so long as you remain constant in this change with me. Love you dearly, love you often. Happy months happy time happy season

Crash break sleep take
My heart and make it your's too
One in the same, melt, weld, stain
All my thoughts and memories and love
Melt into all the forms of love that I give and receive, ebb and flow
you and I
Til that's all that I know
So encompassing
Promising taunting and teasing
Miss me kiss me and stay just a little longer for a little while once again and again the day after and again and again
I will always want to play with you
To chase you
I will always love you for making me this way
For showing me it was there all along
For helping me discover a part of me I didn't know existed

I resent the moon and stars and the clouds that allow them to glow
The hot cold air and transition-dusk
Once filled me
Inspired and cooled the heat and sun and reality that encompassed the day
Nighttime meant love songs and promises and dreams
And dreams
But now that the nights weigh more than the dense days
Since you've filled my head and heart and left them heavy with concern
All I can do is worry and analyze and occupy my nights with day dreams of the nights I dreamt of you and you only

the bounding bouncing onward downward trail of the decent
(falling)
coming down, down, back, back with our pack packs
back to the earth
to lower elevation
to safety?
the return
coming back
switch back in the path
going back
sliding back
to how things were
how I miss the summit

this is for when
you mean to remember but don't
you want to be there but you won't
and when you're running late
or you've forgotten that we'd made a date
for when you're meaning well
or when I'm upset or hurting and you can't tell
when you want to find a way to fix what once was missed
you don't know what it is you've done wrong
for when we fall asleep listening to heartbreak songs
this is for when you can't come through
like you sometimes tend to do

it's ok
because I know that you will make it right
I know what we have is worth the fight
I know (even when you don't) that you're a good man
I know you're doing everything you can
You would never intentionally make my cry
and if you were in proximity, you'd never just stand by
You're trying so hard to always do it all
and sometimes in the juggling act I'm the one that falls
it's ok this time around again
because before we were "us", we were friends
and I know you better than to get caught up with petty fights
I know when I deserve better and I know when what I've got is right

"'Help,' he said, 'is giving a part of yourself to someone who comes to accept it willingly and needs it badly. So it is,' he said, using an old homiletic transition, 'that we can seldom help anybody. Either we don't know what part to give or maybe we don't like to give any part of ourselves. Then, more often than not, the part that is needed is not wanted. And even more often, we do not have the part that is needed. It is like the auto-supply shop over town where they always say, 'Sorry, we are just out of that part.'"