perhaps i fell in love with you. when you loved her.
for not loving someone who loved me once.
-karma

he said.

know deep within your bones
that there is a story to be told
that ever present in your heart
there's magic for you to mold
deep down i hope you know
you will make a difference in
other people's lives

                                                          ­                                                 she asked.
                                                          ­                          well, how do you know?
he responded.

you already have in mine.
                                          - young love.

do not try to be someone else's definition of pretty. if your eyes were not meant to be blue. let them sparkle with curiosity. if your complexion was not meant to be drowning in makeup. let it find its calm within the rhythm of the waves. do not try to be someone else's definition of pretty when your entire being was made for so much more. people find roses pretty. and then they pick them. be a wild flower. bloom with grace. allow yourself to grow to places people never thought you would.
                                                       -like flowers we can chose to bloom

he whispered in
the space between
the seasons
how is it that no
one sees-
the way she left just
like autumn does
in shattered pieces upon
the leaves.

it's the days when the sky tells me to relax. and the oceans remind me to breathe. it's the days i can sit among the wildflowers. and the dandelions beg me to never leave. it's the days the comets come out to play with my thoughts. sorting them into black holes and rocket ships and outer space parking lots. it's the days when my imagination is at one with the earth. that i thank the mountains and valleys. for reminding me of my worth.
                                                                ­                  - reasons to be alive

look at the mountains. the way the clouds seem to kiss the peaks. and the way the flowers curl their leaves in envy. look. look at the way the stream reluctantly snakes its way down the side. and the lily pads cry to stay. don't you see. the stars dancing with the moon and the windblown ***** of our tent. look how the mountains spell love.
                                                       -love is how we see the world in ourselves

he offered her the universe.
                                                       ­               she said she already had her own.