There I was standing above her top lip,
I waited for the first sign of when they'd open again.
I never parachuted before and figured that it'll be fun.
Parachuting into each word that came from her mouth.
Then came my chance.
Soon as she spoke I leaped off her top lip face first.
I couldn't begin to explain how I felt,
Closing my eyes.
Feeling her breath caress the sides of my face.
Never having done this before I didnt know exactly when to pull the shoot.
Instead I fell.
I fell perhaps farther than I ever could have imagined.
Clinging on to every word that came from the lips I've grown to love.
From every book I've read it was understood that love was kind, patient.
Never at all was it suppose to hurt.
And here I am.
Plummeting to my death with a parachute that I had no idea how to open

And that's one good thing I can say,
If nothing else and probably the best quality.
It numbs the pain, leaving you open to a world of awe.
It presents a comfort zone, of being at ease. At anytime, any place.
Such a wonder thing. Your voice.
Becoming a remedy to all sorts of aches and pain.
That one helping hand that seemingly comes out of nowhere, your voice.
That warm invitation that gets you out of the house.
Often taking you to a place you've always passed but never thought to go in.
If only for a minute, your always glad you indulged in such invite.
Finding remedy to all sorts of pain and ache you forgot existed.
Your voice, becoming that feeling you get in your chest when everything just feels right.
That utter happiness that leaves you dimwitted and goofy as hell forgetting that anyone is watching.
It's brilliant. 
Often doing something you'd otherwise never do,
Being taken somewhere you never thought to go.
Even if it's a passing glance on the way there.
What's even better, is that it's your voice that takes me there

And there I saw the perfect bed.
Just the perfect size, height width everything I could have dreamt.
I imagined the perfect sleep in my perfect bed.
Never quite seeing home the same again.
It came equipped with sheets and blankets even a heated mattress.
This bed was better than anything I could have imagined.
I climbed her leg and slipped myself in her pocket.
I haven't slept this good in a long while

Sometimes my thoughts get the better of me.
Instead of being who we are, sometimes I wonder if we
were anything but who we are, who would we be. You know?
Would we still be destined to meet.
By some divine twist.
Would you happen to be the soda beside me and I were a set of lips.
Would purpose still play a big factor, knowing you'd
Be that essential thing that would fill this urge. Not because it would be just,
you know, something momentary just because it's there.
I'd never misuse you, 
Choosing to embrace you with the slightest touch.
The taste of something new, something refreshing.
Without fear that you'd be anything other than yourself.
Sweet, giving.
Hands wouldn't play apart of how much or how little you'd give
As I'd be grateful you thought enough of me to present yourself the way 
you have.
A clear bottle with red and white wrapping.
Lost in a ocean of dark brown

I was walking down the steps and before I knew it I fell.
I closed my eyes bracing myself to feel the clang of my face against steel steps.
The thing about anticipation, it seems that it takes longer to happen before it actually does.
Freeing myself in thought I anticipated a hard fall only to open my eyes and
see that I fell right into the palm of your hand

In most silences there is a hint of regret
One not easily overcome.
The awkward silence of not knowing what to say.
The fear of rambling about nothing as most times
It's better to remain silent.
The after thought of finally finding the perfect thing to say,
Always after the moment has passed.
Random references, awkward stares.
I hate mental blocks.
Especially when it comes to someone that you've been thinking about all day.
Of all things in the world why is it hard to find that one perfect thing that won't
Succumb to the peer pressure of finally arriving at the moment when thought becomes
Action.
That one thing that won't make you appear completely insane to a complete stranger

You are like the sea,
Truth be told there is no other way to put it.
The sound of silence covered in repeated sigh.
A total embodiment of things placed of collective wonderment.
What shall triumph the noise of wave overlapping wave.
Of all things calm you spread your presence,
Drowning in the bliss of serenity.
You and only you could create the quiet hush dreams are made of.
Although
Some tides are bigger than most, 
Of all times, not all are escapable.
Splashing against the shore in a bipolar like disorder.
Crushing everything it touches, selfish in nature.
For every action there is a natural reaction that displaces the initial action.
A need for finding peace in the eye of discord.
This is where your heart becomes a walking representation of the sea itself.
And I the jagged coast, cleansed of any disbelief that things won't get any better outside of the moment.
Pieces of myself lost in you. A constant movement no longer stagnant in thought. 
This is where I consider you the sea, the depth of your eyes covering everything it touches.
And I the boat lost in mid drift, without a care in the world.
A means of transportation exploring a depth of things I never knew to exist.
The things you keep hidden.
Far from the hindsight of eyes, your habits, things you reveal to be true given enough time.
The constant change that happens every moment of every minute.
Still it doesn't take away from it's beauty, the things kept hidden.
You are like the sea, 
A profound way of expression.
And I, the sailor. 
Watching the truth reveal, bit by bit.

Queen, keep on the path that
Your on, for true revolution starts to manifest as we begin to transcend into purpose.
Not completely ignoring the reason behind it.
But its the growth that is essential to flourish into such things.
Which takes us from inside the box to outside the box and trains us to think differently.
Your melatonin is beautiful don't ever let anybody rob you of your inner beauty, the essence of your smile
For your crown is interwoven in your hair.
Where most would see this as a problem, they are from the outside looking in.
Every one looks at a picture
And ooo's and awes but never take the time to realize what makes that same piece of art definitive.
But that is what makes it Renasant.
Noone realizes that it makes your crown impossible to remove.
Pay no nevermind to those that sit and wonder how your crown reflects so much light.
No matter how overcast the day, continue to be proud that the sun always finds you and reminds you of how unique you are

Sometimes,
Even the prettiest flower has it's days.
Sometimes the wind begins to be too much
Ruffling it's petals.

Not every day can be a pretty day,
Whether it be a rose, or a daisy.
Sometimes the sun can be hard to find in plain view.
Standing in watch, patiently waiting.
Sometimes hours, days.
Sometimes that feeling of regret sets in,
Those negative thoughts that seemingly come out of nowhere.
Still it isn't deterred.
Patience is Key
As a brigher day is closer than you think

Her love was like the wind,
Nothing could equate to the chill that accompanied whom she touched.
The simplicity of knowing something this precious could exist.
The comfort of wind becoming air, swift.
inhaled deep
Exhaled, soon to return.
Unselfish to those in need.
Unselfish to me,
Her love was free.
A rebellious thing, the wind.
Turbulent, spreading itself without fear.
One of those things that just happens naturally,
Curious.
Chaotic.
the hint of wonderment each direction she spread her essence.
The power to give life as well as take it away.
She comes, she goes.
Her love was like the wind,
Free to come and go as she pleased

Today without question
I placed myself in a glass jar filled with you.
With no way of closing the jar I left the lid undone,
Already beginning to sink
I watched you ooze out, spilling against the sides.
I sat puzzled as I sunk to the bottom.
Reaching watching those familiar parts of you slip through my fingers.
There was no way I could recover the parts of you dripping to the outer bottom of the jar.
Never once did I think to breathe

Tonight I want you to model.
More power to you if you think im refering to silk or lace.
Not at all in bad taste but tonight it'll just be a waste of time,
Watching you slip into something ****  knowing that its coming right back off.
Don't think me silly as its essential that you know.
Anticipating watching you put your mouth on it.
Pretending that your not selfishly waiting your turn,
Thats cool, you can admit it
Because in that same token i love watching you swarm around the sheets, reaching as if your soul is about to leave your body.
The wetness that erupts feeling your legs clench around my head.
A Dead give away that your about to run.
Twisting and turning knowing **** well that I refuse to let you go.
Face deep eyeing you fron bellow, watching you lose your breath looking down at me whispering stop stop
Just before your body locks up again and you lose control of your leg.
Its never that easy.
Plotting just what time,
Remembering all the **** you've talked.
Flipping you over, cuffing your hips.
Sliding into ultimate bliss.
Tonight,
I want you to be a model.
But none of that fancy lingerie.
No perfume rubbed against the sides of your neck, between your *******. Or even beneath your bellybutton.
Tonight,
I want you to wear me

In an open end expression,
I wanted to do something like try to make you smile.
Things seldom seen as perfectly as they appear in person.
No matter how hard I think about it, it doesn't exactly make for what I see In your presence.
Somehow it just calms me.
That eternal peace that comes out of nowhere.
That inescapable feeling of being a different man. That unavoidable truth Found in the sound of silence.
This is the effect you have on me.
Somewhere deep down I touch bases with a me that I haven't seen in such a long time.
I guess the cool part about it is that it never takes much.
Nothing out of the ordinary, just one of those lazy days off work
no odd shaped supervisor barking orders.
You know, none of that aggravating **** we face on a daily bases.
Just a unexplainable peace.
Finding it's way into light, A light that only you can provide.
A light that appears soon as you smile.
Lips unraveling the bud of a pearly smile.
A stem wrapped in clothes, roots tied in rubber soles.
That's you, That one flower whom refused to stay in the same spot.
That rebellious bunch that kept too much to herself that followed the sun wherever it went.
Most flowers hideaway when the weather breaks, taking a deep snooze until the cold goes away.
On the other hand you are not like most flowers. You put on a coat and found a place with a heater.
Whose to say that you were wrong.
Whose to say that if you didn't adapt that you still wouldn't ask a million and one questions.
It's those quirks alone that make you easily lovable.
Still kind of irritating though, not all of the time just sometimes.
It still kind of makes me want to lock you in a closet, still kind of just makes me look at you and somewhat growl.
Eh, I know that sounds kind of ****** up but admittedly I enjoy every bit of it.
Although I still kind of  want to call God and apologize for whatever it was I did just take you away.
That sounded mean, but I'll do you one better.
It still kind of makes me miss you when you don't do any of those things.
At some point I don't know what made you take your shoes off and root yourself beside me.
But I'm glad you did.
Life would be so boring if I didn't have someone to shoot the **** with.
Even if half the time I kind of, sort of, always threaten to **** you.
Never in a serious way. Always in a silly off the wall sort of way. Noone would see it coming.
Nah but in all seriousness,
I know that your just expressing how you feel, Although I joke about you being clingy .
In the moments that I don't want to shake you, I enjoy it throughly

You know, it's funny how some things manifest themselves from a thought or a sudden feeling.
Like a collection of thoughts that have always known themselves but in a strange twist by invention manifest themself as that same thought or emotion.
For the last 15 minutes your picture has been the best snow globe ever invented!
Actually it's been longer than 15 minutes but the number 15 correlates to the first conversation we ever had.
Taking 15 minutes to realize somethings don't actually need a response.
It's the happening that makes it oh so special.
With every shake I see the snow fall and it sprinkles across your face just like I always pictured it would

I was foolish, to have believed the lies your eyes told.
I never needed some sort of approval to explore the ways I felt
Drifting away in your eyes.
Those shameless lies that cared not what they told.
Not once did they reply to the things told in confidence.
Tied port side by dim lit lights. The fog smug, suffocating everything it touched.
The secrets I felt that numbed the pain.
The extra miles walked in untied laces.
The ease of feeling uptight, repressed. Gone whenever I felt your presence.
You were that light that I searched so long for, wandering around in complete darkness.
Learning to trust what I felt, I believed in you.
After searching for so long, that one beam to pierce through the dark and make everything clear.
At least for a moment.
And for that, I don't blame you for circumstances out of my control.
That irreducible feeling, watching you disappear then reappear.
Spreading your light in every direction but the one place it was needed most.
Things happen for a reason, and just as sure as I drifted away in your eyes.
I've learned that the stars shine the brightest the farther you get from port.

And I said to her that I need more than a friend.
That I need that compromise that calls for her immediate attention.
That my head has been the beneficiary of her shoulder for quite sometime.

Through the laughs, the jokes, the long talks that end with a deep stare.
To be as honest as I can, I revealed the fact that I've been digging her for quite sometime now.
You know that subtle weakness that makes it hard to say no to the smallest thing.

That cool but uncool moment every-time the phone rings you hope its who your thinking of.

That one person whom makes it through that thick fog of possibilities and it could be's.
That sometimes your right, sometimes your wrong. Gradually bidding your time until they call subtleness.

Revealing that the small moments we've spent together equates to somewhat of all her time,
And with her busy schedule and all that it's all she has to give.
And trust me that's all right with me.
That I am blessed to stare right into her eyes and be able to feel the exact thing
Holiday felt. The pause that captivated a audience until the end of her performance.
The same thing Stevie Wonder felt, that sort of superstitious that causes pause whenever I go to speak.

It's that urgent manifestation to tell you that I miss you, that if your not too busy stop by after work.
As her voice is the transportation that takes me from one job to the next.

That energy that could otherwise be describe as divine.
That is why it's important that I need her to know this.
This certain philosophy that she is needed to get through the day.
And here I am at my window seat seeing the world from a totally different view.
No longer sitting at the bus stop watching the world speed pass a moment at a time.
Without need for a transfer, just bidding my time without a thing to do. Tossing my bus pass in the wind.
At that moment I said to her that I need more than a friend.
What I need is that feeling that only you can provide

Fragile are the pages we turn, not truly knowing the severity of tight pressed pages

She showed me that being strong willed was hardly enough in the midst of her disaster, I've watched buildings falter beneath her steps only for her to then smile like nothings happened

I was never good enough, that still wasn't never enough to stop me

Flaws reciprocate each other until they find perfection, only through outside eyes

And with the touch of her hand, the wall became a bridge

Easier is a state of mind, even a ocean starts as a puddle

There I was alone in a room.
Nothing out of the ordinary,
Just figured that I'd hang around. Eventually find something to do.
Sometimes it's funny, the thoughts that come and go. Some better than most but nevertheless funny.
Sometimes I close my eyes and wander around in the dark.
There nothing but the patter of my heart could be heard.
Pattering through the hall of your ears,
hoping that every once in a while, you'll hear it.
Not too much to ask. Just a moment to say "hey I thought about you. "
These precious seconds we seem waste.
Here alone in two separate rooms.
The drywall felt my very essence.
A sense of sitting still while everything else goes on.
I guess at times like this you become complacent, starting to second guess everything.
The good, the bad.
Things otherwise tucked in a wall, covered by a plastic mold, a couple of screws.
Things are never as they seem.
Wood molding, a cosy semi gloss paint.
What is the true definition of balance.
The excess of things we don't really need, the convenience of dismissing things in the dark.
Things put out of view,
The shutter of a light switch clicking on, then right back off.
Here I sit tucked uncomfortably in the wall, made to fit in a plastic case.
Awaiting you to flip the switch that gave me so much life.
That one spark that truly made a difference during the day.
Would I know this familiar place without the glimpse of watching you leave back out.
This strong urge that wants to reach back out.
Even after you've switched the switch back off.
That I suppose is what makes it funny. The way switches work.
They provide a good **** general purpose, but no matter what variation. They work one way.
Always placed by a door that heads in, sometimes out.
Depending on which way you look at it.
Sometimes I just close my eyes to gain a moments peace.
Listening to the sound of you softly echo down the hall.
At some point waiting to hear them turn back around.
At that point I open my eyes, and find myself staring at a door

Tonight I looked up at the stars
With one thing in mind.
Of all the stars and constellations I didn't see the one thing I wanted to see.
The moon shone through the clouds bringing a better view.
Still I didn't see the one thing I hoped to see.
I turned to Google and downloaded one of those astrology apps.
To much dismay I still didn't see what I had built In my mind as the end all be all.
Something a bit out of the ordinary.
I stood outside a little while  longer, nothing.
It wasn't until I layed across the bed and seen my phone disconnect from the charger.
I saw I had a few missed text messages.
A call or two, a **** load of e-mails.
Still I didn't see what I built in my mind as the end all be all.
That one defining thing that would bring a smile to my face.
There was no you

Tonight when everything goes quiet.
When you cut your tv off after
One last channel check
And the light from your phone flashes one last time before plugging it on the charger.
When your laying there lost in thought
Before finally fading off into a deep sleep.
There is a cliff that resonates between our deepest thoughts.
And on that cliff I am standing there waiting on you to fall into a deep sleep.
And grant you one of the best dreams you've had in a long time

I love you because I can not love myself the way that I love you.
Put bluntly,
I cannot otherwise do the things that I do to you to myself.
Everything has a beginning, My loving you started the first day I gave my eyes to you.
Whether you know it or not. What came to be was a product of me no longer belonging to myself.
Granted I'd like to think there was a reason you happened to be standing there at that specific time and place 
honestly I had nothing better to do than to sit and wait for that exact moment,   you just so happened to look up and vola.
I honestly could not tell you what drew my eyes to you.
Persuading my legs to turn my feet and walk in your direction.
In a sense there was an inferno taking place inside me and you held a pail of water.
A thing not to be taken lightly, this inferno.
As it devours everything it meets, so happen there was a lot of you.
Not that you seemed to mind. Else I'd ask why you were holding a bucket of water.
Eliminating the eyes totally, relying on instinct alone
I love you because you didn't have anything better to do than say okay

And like a clown
I painted my face
Bringing about a smile without use of speech or gesture.
The power of love was present
Opening a catalog of different pages.
To the external, nothing changed
But psychologically
I highlighted a certain passage.
Licking behind my bottom teeth in an unseen smile.
Of course my eyes couldn't hide such sensation
Based on observation I remained still
Not knowing how to express sudden emotion.
It was impossible to imitate
Not knowing which way was up
Deciding to open myself further
I smiled
Forgetting the smile I previously painted.
I was seen as a hypocrite in a world outside of my own
Was I truly to blame.

The forecast projected snow and immediately I thought of her,
Not necessarily in a way that a blanket provides warmth, although she is quite warm and that would be the perfect reason to stay in come to think about it.
Upon hearing the forecast, I thought of her in the most spontaneous way that snow falls.
Giving all of itself asking for nothing in return.
That in a world of premeditated notion, she is one of the only things
that falls freely.
Giving a glimpse of how beautiful she truly is.
Sprinkling bits of herself in a way not thought possible.
Without care to where and when she falls, she was a free spirit.
Leaving a piece of herself everywhere she stepped.
Her powdered steps turning slick, a quick glimpse of how silly she is.
That slip and fall that makes you resent the ice.
Last Winter I slipped constantly, finding myself falling deeper each and every time she fell.
Maybe it was the thrill, knowing that she was there to catch me.
All is fair in love and war, but the touch of cold hands after taking forever to get warm is never fun.
Probably best I buy her a blanket this Christmas

She was the manifestation of underground roots,
Those seldom seen from which such gift can be given, bronze skin.
Her hair symbolized what I felt as our eyes connected.
Her voice lifted my spirit higher than it's ever been.
Without anything to return, How do I reciprocate such a gift.
A thank you would hardly do justice.

Where has this been all of my life, her- using my hands as a vase to convene.

Hearing her voice blossom from the bud of where I stood.

A question that went in silence.

For the light that shines bright inside her blocks out that of the sun.

A space free to fill with what you please.

These are the words I pictured her telling me.

Over and over again until I was full enough to be tilted over and water her just

as shes watered me.

The root that no one remembers to water

Black and blue striped leggings,
A small white shirt with dangling hoop earrings.
This is what she wore on a good day in my mind.
Quite the opposite of what I saw when I opened my eyes.
Watching the moon sail across a ocean of stars, the brilliance of stars.
A everlasting testimony.
Regardless the size of the waves that come crashing down.
She shone the brightest.
In a language thats misunderstood all around the world, would she understand mine.
To participate in such tutelage, what joy did I hope to accomplish.
Searching the inside of my eyes,
Considering the brightest twinkle in the sky the wink of her eye.
Releasing the silence of fear in a hopeful sigh.
Without hope of the day, I kept her hidden in my dreams.
Soon realizing the crash course of broken dreams, waking up just before the good part.
As vivid as she appeared when my eyes were closed I believed anything was possible.
Looking to the stars through a telescope, seeing her as the one that shines the brightest

In a odd twist,
You became the official unofficial big brother I never had.
We've long passed the favorite artist, listener thing that totally happened unexpectedly.
There were times when at my worse you gave some of the most life changing advice in the craziest way.
True enough you muffled them kind of low, but turning up my headphones was never a problem.
For each track list there was something that gave insight to things I never thought to think about.
And now, with all the time that's passed.
It's like what happened.
At that point and time I could have easily said without a question of a doubt that you were the pivotal point of the pedestal needed.
That one stone whom refused to be broken.
No matter how hard times got.
Now it's like, where did the old you go.

And out of the blue drops an awkward moment
The kind of awkward moment where nothing in itself is awkward.
Just a moment that passes in complete silence where nothing is actually wasted
nor publicized.
No focal point, nothing to rebuttal.
The kind of moment that is considered awkward, usually right before revealing the same exact thought.
The same exact expression.
Just a matter of opinion. Expressing the simplistic.

How awkward would it be if I were to think of you in a moment where there was nothing else to do.
A moment of vulnerability In an affair of stating the obvious, there is no way I'd consider this out of the blue though.
Really and truly there isn't anything of importance that can be found here,

Except the color blue but then again that should be obvious. Like how unimportant was that really?

You could have went the whole day without nothing being said. Just based off the thought alone.

I suppose the only thing that makes it somewhat awkward is that I didn't.

And really I just used a lot of unnecessarily long but short words to tell you that you were on my mind.

I know right, the perfect *******. And to think you were probably doing something important.

But since I now have your attention and we're just throwing things up out of the blue.

What color ******* Are you wearing? Are they the see through purple ones or the red see through ones

I took absolutely no pleasure,
Though I indulged.
That in the pleasure of temptation.
A sense of dread setting in once all the pleasure was gone.
Hidden from which I found through true pursuit.
Isolating myself to a single thought.
I found myself unable to change, chasing the thrill of pleasure.
I thought to myself was I this selfish.
To dance in the rain soon as melancholy shown it's head.
The drops splashing against the crinkles of my face.
I soon grew to admire it.
This self perpetual motion that insists that I go in constant circles.
A unlikely comfort that insured that I pursue even further.
What was this disaster,
Finding my reflection to be more than a mere crutch.
I looked left, then right.
Losing understanding of what brought me to this place.
This certain happening.
This part of me that must die. This certain part of me that's clung on to you for so long not knowing what is real, and what isn't.
Between you and I, I had no clue which harmed me the most.
The fluorescent thought of needing you more than you needed yourself.
In actuality it was simple.
Barricading myself in a room to stop this foolish act.
Somehow you'd still managed to appear.
I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I wasn't waiting for you.
The conviction shown against my reflection waiting at the window.
Awaiting your touch before I went into a coma like sleep.
I grew resentful towards the bright light.
Choosing to sleep all day, coming to life at night.
This part of me must die.
This ache that was only quenched by your touch.
I couldn't lie to myself anymore.
Committing myself to the asylum.
By tomorrow would be too late, regretting every delusion I've made to tear myself away from you.
Your reaction once you've found out what I've truly done.
Not only did I tear myself away from you, I've made myself welcome to the touch of your everlasting dark.
Such terrifying figures the dark makes once the light cuts off.
I feared sleep as your face was the only thing I saw.
My complexion terribly pale.
Just what have you done to me, seeking some kind of justification
I checked myself in hoping to lose sight of you.
Only to find more of you in each patient.
Each day I spent in here I found my face turning more pale.
I was indeed becoming a ghoul, concerning myself with one thing.
A source of some kind of help was needed.
Finding myself arguing with the vampire girl in the lunch room over her red Jello.
The way that it skittered in slightest motion.
The way that it looked while it dripped down her fangs.
I felt like the plastic cup that held the snack filled serving.
Here I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and you were nowhere around to offer a helping hand.
I took no pleasure in removing myself from you, but at the same time
I cannot live without you

With nothing to drink,
I grabbed her and put her in my glass.
Leaving her arm hanging out
Softly stirring her around.
Nothing else was needed outside of that moment.
A woman whom was patient, self sufficient, tender.
A woman whom could make me put away my pride and admit in an otherwise advanced situation.
That I had nothing to drink.
After a while water gets boring.
Sodas complicate the simplest of things.
I needed something new.
Something that could quench my thirst with no never-mind involved.
Without the need for ice,
She was the solution to all my problems.
Placing her inside of a glass.
Devouring her sip by sip

I want to know what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror.
Especially on the bad days.
Even then, If you don't feel like getting out of bed.
I'll be your mirror.
Reciting everything I see when I stare back into you

I was your balloon,
You had me so high.
My head overflated, filled to max capacity.
You couldn't have possibly known just how you made me feel.
My neck attached to a string clinched tight in the center of your hand.
Then all of sudden.
Pop.
You couldn't possibly have known how bad that hurt

She closed her eyes and dipped herself in a bowl of chocolate.
Tempting my sweet tooth at it's very mercy.
Choosing to ignore my selfish tooth I indulged in the very thought.
What was joy without pain,
Knowing the taste of her would rot my teeth to the core.
I could ease suffice, drenching myself in her very thought.
Careful not to spill any against the side of the bowl.
**** anyone who could possibly hate chocolate, especially when their eyes connected with hers.
Filling my hands with a swirl of sensation.
She obliged the hunger seen in my eyes.
I figured what the hell, I'll just have to die with diabetes

In a brutal attempt to regain control of myself,
I locked myself in a asylum with nothing but a picture of you.
A source of some kind of help was needed, arguing back and forth with my former self
That this part of me must die.
That part that's clung on to you for so long,
Just this one part, nothing but that part in particular.
This sole decision of staring at your face in the dark.
There really wasn't a difference if you were there or not.
In reality you were never there but always seemed to be there in a spec of what seemed as convenient.
I feared sleep, catching a strong case of insomnia,
Knowing that somehow you would magically appear.
in actuality I was afraid to face a long awaited demon, somehow waiting for you to almost jump out of the picture.
I didn't know which would be more terrifying,
When the other patients got a glimpse of the look across my face.
They muttered amongst themselves.
Yeah that guy deserves to be here he doesn't have a shadow
He's a ghost in a world full of ghouls.
Either that or affiliated with the zombie girl in the corner

I don't want to leave you,
But in order to better myself I'm afraid I have to.
Mama told me that it'll be days like this.
Daddy told me to learn from everyone you meet.
Shirt now folded, tucked in a bag beneath the bus.
To much disdain, I have to leave now.
Here on the open road traveling down every thought.
A window seat to the world. Open and vast.                                             First person view.
A introvert paused next to a bag lady whom resembles the woman I found in you.
Not too much to say.
Revisiting these old roads etched in my mind.
The thing about memorization.
You always seem to go back when least expected.
Another birth control pill. A baby trying to survive abortion.
A layered bowl of chili in a old diner across the street of an old country town.
High rise wires always seem the same either direction you go

Strength can be found all around us. No matter how high or how low.
There is always something there that reminds us of what we are truly capable of.
Always promise yourself to be the shield that deflects the storm.
Guarding your body, your mind.
Your loved ones.
Just as there are many different ways a picture could tell a thousand stories.
Just as there are many lessons within the reason for every season.
Let your joy be one of enthusiastic proportion.
As nothing can steal your joy.
Acknowledge yourself for all that you do as this life thing only comes around once

Sometimes, things wear out.
Creating holes and gaps often complicating the simplest of things.
Sometimes love is a lot like socks.
Some are long, some are short.
Hell some even come up to the height of knees.
Some are bland. Some are colorful.
Baring the fruit of comforting something bare enough to be considered as precious.
Devilish things, socks.
Sometimes they create more problems than they are worth.
Coming apart at the seams,
Getting caught between your toes.
Constantly having to stop and readjust your shoe when no one is looking.
Or flat out just take your shoe off and fix it.
I thought I brought the right size.
Carefully reading the label,
Sometimes that one size fits all is just a lie.
In time all things wear.
Just don't be foolish enough to not enjoy the comfort of the simple things.
This at all isn't comparing you to a pair of socks, no not at all.
If ever I was to become overweight.
You'd be the pair of suspenders that hold my pants up when my belt can't fit anymore

I was goofy in love,
That sort of sarcastic your ugly but I need you type of love.
That lounge around in underwear all day not afraid to be myself love.
In all seriousness, I wore nothing but her.
Smothering my nose in her hair. More commonly a set of areolas.
She was a character, sometimes rambling through my t-shirts.
Sliding her arms through loose hanging sleeves.
Pushing all of her hair to one side of her head, making silly faces.
Actually quite a scary thing to see, At that moment I prayed to God thanking him that she had a full head of hair. Although admitting that her left eye looking at the right one was kind of ****. Especially with her tongue cocked to the side.
A smile ofter kept me out of trouble.
Although admittedly I'd avoid certain questions,
She was that big head pretty girl whom believed she was always right, even when she was wrong.
I loved telling her no.
Even when I meant yes. The first time was an accident. The next twelve hundred just became habit.
The concept really wasn't as vague as it sounds.
Honestly, I am a good guy.
I just loved dancing on her nerves from time to time.
The crinkles that formed around her nose as she turned red.
Especially in public, I'd always tell the cashier or waitress that she was abusive.
Often locking me in the closet.
That I was her *** slave and this would be the only time she'd let me leave the house. That she held me hostage, to only refer to her as mistress when we're out and about.
Either that or I'd push her on random isles of a store and yell shoplifter.
It was always something crazy with us.
Grabbing a foam sword and constantly poke her in the *** until ultimately she'd just stop walking.
Other women felt her pain.
Laughing before revealing intriguing conversations about their men and how they would always leave them at home.

It was hard to forget her
Especially on overcast days.
The spots we stood, eavesdropping in the clouds where she came the hardest.
The quiver sent through her spine constituting the lightening that left her paralyzed.  
She stood electrified, curious of where we would strike next.
All I wanted was to be needed.
Soaked in the rain that poured
In between sounds of thunder.
Her moan was the loudest.
In the pursuit of true happiness
I stood in her storm.
Pacing back and forth becoming the lightening rod causing her to strike.
With gusts up to about 120 mph she came without haste.
A bolt of lightening, devoured by swollen space.
As strong and as fast as she came she was fragile.
Collapsing soon as she struck.
Dissipating into the belief that she was to disappear without a trace.
Thunder pierced through the sky.
Bellowing her return.
The crackle of her moan replied, wrapping around complete space.
Resting her head for moments longer.
Changing the way she saw herself

The rumors are true,
Nighttime crowds, hand stuffed hoodies.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.
V neck t-shirts with decals printed on the back of them.
Sweatshirts. Loose cargo shorts.
The holiday of photo galleries captured between blinking eyes.
Tickets sold half priced.
Too bad movies aren't the way they used to be.
A stigma that everything around changes.
A few empty seats, one empty stall in the men's bathroom.
A exclusively graphic depiction of unzipped blouses, unbuttoned  pants.
Toilet tissue stuck to the bottom of worn shoes.
Suddenly there's a tote for whatever bag that needed to be held.
But then again we're just chatting, aren't we. Two souls with nothing to do but vandalize each other's mind.
Blah blah blah. Yada yada yada.

To the princess trapped in the glass bottle.
Take a few steps back, I'm going to bust the glass and catch you before you fall.
If all else fails, at least we'll have this memory to stand  above all else.
I've walked passed you once before,
I never thought to stop.
Reason,
Your lips turned up right, eyes quick to roll.
The silent treatment of turned backs. Ill gotten tempers.
I never once thought through all the complications that the glass was actually dingy.
That you actually could have been tired of being passed up because of how high up you were, the trouble of broken glass.
Jagged grooves. Smooth binges, blind understatements.
I applogize on my behalf,
The labels aren't anywhere as good as they use to be. but I promise.
If you make that silly face one more time.
That one face that equates to "duh"
I'm throwing this rock right at your head.
If you were anymore transparent, I could swear you just rolled your eyes again

Every night her thoughts drifted somewhere new.
Boarding a late night flight anywhere she could afford.
Living a broad.
One foot in a dream, the other in her bed.
Lost in the abyss of the clouds.
Suffering from a depression only cleared by the thought of clouds.
The sin of punctured veins seeking release.
A banshee roaming the taste
Of sorrow.
Freed only by the thought of escape.
Any place but there.
That feeling of always being trapped, alone.
Only at night is she free to roam as she once was.
Any place she could afford.
Boarding the next flight her soul could provide

I had this incredible itch in my ear
To much dismay everywhere I looked I couldn't find a Q-tip.
My fingers were much to big to reach in and grant any kind of relief.
It just happened out of nowhere, this incredible irritation.
The longer it went on, the more irritating it became.
If it were anything else I wouldn't have considered it a blessing, then there it was.
A Q-tip. Laying on the bathroom counter.
All my life I never thought I'd be so happy to see a Q-tip.
In much delight I grabbed it and inserted it into my ear.
Almost teasing myself first going around my ear then sliding it into my ear-hole.
Twisting it left then right, eyes rolling back.
If you could feel exactly how I did. Reaching that one itch that would drive a sane man mad.
Any amount of money, hell even *** at that point wouldn't do any justice.
Twisting that Q-tip left then right.
I couldn't help but smile.
It wasn't until I pulled the Q-tip out of my ear when I saw a note attached to the end of it.
Wrote in real fine lettering.
I had to squint to read it.
Although I couldn't completely make half of it out, the last part was clear as day.
Out of curiosity. I laughed grabbing the other end of the Q-tip placing it back in my ear.
This time I felt a real sharp pain accompanied by a loud sound.
I instantly threw the Q-tip to the ground.
It didn't make sense to me then, maybe not ever.
But next time I know.
Never disturb a Minotaur while he is trimming the hedge in his labyrinth.
Especially after being warned the first time

She was a flower,
Blossoming in each direction she stepped.
A flower tucked in a rose woven sweater.
She grew thorns to protect herself from those whom sought to misuse the essence of her beauty.
The spread of her fragrant bud, spreading her petal in the midst
of where she stood.
Paying no never-mind to her roots, her petals withered.
Applying water to everywhere accept where it was needed most.
They continued to pass, her sweater now dingy.

The ***** of different fingers, she no longer swayed the same.

A season of orange and red leaves.
Then came the winter. Hard but fair

Robbing her of all the beauty she possessed.

It was when her petals fell that she remembered what mattered most

I've baptized myself in you,
You've not just freed my body but the deepest cry
My soul could ever muster.
Thus creating an embassy of revolution.
In you, this holy sanctuary.
I felt the chill of water overlapping my face.
Born anew in the spirit.
Becoming a total embodiment of "US"
Wandering in the current of everlasting bliss.
Acquiring a part of you, a part of me.
Wisdom of the most high bestowed upon "US"
Granting logic outside of ourselves.
Understanding that love has a multitude of different level.
The inner child now mature in the manifestation of calm.
Learning that not every action requires a reaction.
But instead
Listening to the growth of everlasting stillness.
Laying flat in it's natural state.
No longer formed in the disturbance of it's ripple.
In a true understanding that everything external has depth

It seemed normal enough,
The moment I saw her.
She walked in the store, door chiming as she stepped over the theshold.
nonchalant look on her face
Just killing time really.
I was standing behind the lady at the checkout line
She got closer, standing beside me, asking for singles of black and milds
One rhythm, the other blues.
She was vibrant, letting her voice reign over the cashier ringing items over the scanner.
The sun gave praise to her silhouette, sprouting wings behind her
We made eye contact for a split second
Hair arched behind her ears.
Tight fitted jeans. Jacket stopping at the bounce of her purse.
The sliding door seeming to hold a bit longer.
Her eyes looked right through me, placing a brief hold on giving the cashier my items.
Coke zero, a bag of chips.
I really don't know what made me stop,
Just driving around, nothing better to do.
She was polite, placing one foot in front of the other.
Pausing for a moment longer,
I suppose I was enlightened stepping into her world.
Her back letting the sun through the sliding door.
Paying no never mind to the newspaper and candy littered in front of the register.
Stealing glances of past mistakes as she passed by.
The thing about a perfect moment is that it never lasts as long as it's suppose to.
Exchanging an hello for a sensual look, following the trail of perfume left in her eye.
The over compulsive touch of eyes.
The peace of mind of something out of the ordinary.
The verbal pleasantries of open gestures.
Warm, inviting.
Honestly, speaking never hurt anyone.
Though I was curious if she bit or not