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

Today before it rains, I'll big a big boat and sail away in irregular sleeves.
Big floppy ones that hang below my wrists.
Cut little slits to slide my thumbs in.
Then I'll buy a telescope and peer through the wrong end,
Thinking far left when everything seems so right.
Sailing in a pool of rain on the perfect day.
Of all the things I brought from the store.
I still find myself being the main ingredient of a certain stew.
For each drop that will fall I will smile.
Maybe a tad bit old fashion. But who else can see things exactly as I do.
Splashing my shoes in odd shaped puddles.
Today before it rains, I'll think of something a bit more subtle.
Something a bit more complex.
Hell I didn't have anything else better to do so I thought of you.
Wondering exactly what you'll look like from the other end of the telescope.
So far today has been strange.
Buying a boat for no particular reason.
Seeking kaleidoscopes and telescopes,
Waddling my wrists around in odd fitting sleeves.
Climbing aboard my boat waiting on the rain to pour.
By chance if I were to see you on today of all days, and you were to ask why.
My reply would possibly be the most simplest thing I've ever said.
Taking nothing odd out of context, Or the extra length added to my sleeves.
I'd simply reply.
Hopefully sail away from you.
The telescope was just to distract you

I am in love with the infinite space that you provide.
The calm found after each second anxiety ceases to exist,  revealing that all will be fine.
An invisible duct of constant wonder.
You never cease to amaze me.
Your unpredictablely shy.
First appearing, then disappearing.  Mere clouds following the sound of your voice.
Revealing more and more about yourself, not knowing where to end.
I love that about you.
The fountain of youth found in the dimple of your smile.
Forever found in the throb of my heart.
Tucking me into a blanket of complete comfort.
Leaving everything out in the open the loose strings and fabric.
Tucking me in, never minding the weather.
Dividing your goodnight kiss across my head.

You are my sky and with you I plan to do nothing but fall.

Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur.
Of all things a frigging minotaur.
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes.
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap.
He bounced up in full guard.
Me being me I asked him for simple directions.
Telling him that I thought I was lost.
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two.
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow.
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one.
One step further, I added.
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while.
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but,
How about you let me *** a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner.
After all who can be mad over breakfast

I'd like to think of her as a bible,
One undeniably within reach.
Free to the touch, the embrace of saving myself well, from myself.
Hearing myself in a way not thought possible.
I Convenient to the word she speaks.
The tenderness of realizing that the next moment is not promised.
Though I rejoice in taking the next moment as a promise.
Knowing that if I shall close my eyes and tomorrow never comes.
That I'll be present wherever she is.
Understanding that the beauty of her is not easily obtained.
The excitement of sitting in silence.
Allowing her to probe my mind.
To heal the aches not easily curable by anything other.
The taste of palm to cover.
To be remade by a higher power.
The miracle of knowing.
The metaphorical essence of innocence

Every gesture,
From every glance to every touch.
Was thoroughly apart of her.
A celebration of confetti scattered about her eyes.
A ****** of adoration.
Her toes bare, gripping the bottom of her shoes through her socks.
An extension of what's felt inside still unseen.
The glow of her skin.
The mess made in her eyes without need for a dust pan nor push broom.
The fluid and grace of being alive without restriction.
She made love outside for all to see.
The wisp of cold air made warm by her sigh.
The door to her now open, doorstop wedged in the crease beneath the door.
In a look exchanged between the thousands of days between her eyelids.
She uttered please don't make slam the door
This is what makes it sacred

My brain is still in prayer,
Following an apology for the same sin about to be committed.
Sort of like the reflections we see amongst ourself in other people.
Pointing out only the things we see in ourselves.
That sort of stand up comic that points fun of that one guy in the front row, never really taking in consideration that same guy could be waiting on him after the show.
That cynical psychology of growing up with siblings.
Would you think twice if you seen chickens standing out of a fast food place.
The ethical influence of hunger dissipating as they
Stand there patiently waiting for the unnext best thing.
Love is relentlessly blind.
A hunger that never really seems full.
Are we the glutens chasing something without a face only knowing taste.
Staring lovingly into each other's eyes but in actuality craving chicken.
What suppresses this urge.
Besides the hope that this Sprite isn't flat

Between the highs and lows experienced day to day.
You are worth more than your weight in gold.
This you should take pride in,
The kindness, understanding, and strength that keeps your head elevated.
A way to the truth is found deep inside you.
It is there you will find treasure tenfold.
Don't dilute your soul with negative image.
Tainting yourself of all the beauty you possess.
Don't fear those that refuse the light that shines from your crown.
Or those whom speak ill of you.
At times like this, nourish yourself from the fountain of enlightenment.
Ascend higher in consciousness.
Control your breath, unclench your fist.
Gain the strength to go that extra mile.
A light will emerge, causing mass hysteria amongst the darkness
And within this light, the greatest treasure will be found.
That light is you.
That gift is you.
Don't forget how special you are or how much power you truly possess

I built a castle in the center of her heart,
A place where I was able to come and go freely.
All with a single purpose, to protect something so precious.
There, where I built a place I've come to know as home.
Not to misconstrue any point that I'd ever leave.
Leaving the hallways door-less
With marble pillars, that would be impossible.
Straying any distance.
Hearing nothing but the echoes that wisp between the hallways.
I've confessed to my soul that it would be the only other place I'd consider home.
Considering her eyes the wilderness, filled with wooden branches and small creatures with bush like tails.
The calm of it all.
If I had one desire, I'd want her to believe that the constant pain that she feels in the center of her chest is the sound of hands, convincing her to believe things that otherwise she would never think possible.
The sound of plywood and stone coming together to create something perhaps
past her level of what's considered sane.
The construction of pillars to protect her heart.
The constant walks in her eyes, gathering wood to stoke the fire that keeps everything warm.
When you close your eyes,
Would you find it at all strange to see one of many things that keeps your heart warm.
Night falling over the wilderness,
Revealing the wolf that constantly howls
Standing in watch

Let's go somewhere far,
Somewhere where I'd hold you tight.
Hand in hand.
Wherever you'd like.
Whether train or plane.
An automobile or an boat.
Either way will be home in justification.
Journeying through each other's eyes, a different aspect of seeing things brand new.
A single step becoming wholesome
Just for the sake of getting up and getting out.
The feelings that dwell within
Escaping out.
Anywhere with you, to be perfectly honest. 
Venturing abroad in living, breathing color.
Heads leaned against each other in excitement,
The comfort of toes covered in warm sand.
Sculpting each and every memory.
The sun becoming a spec in the horizon.
Exploring every wish, every dream we've found within reach.
The feel of every couch cushion.
Misplaced nickels, dimes.
Caressing the weight of weary legs.

A earth tone colored pattern. 
The lobby of every room folded In the brochure of our heart.
All in the autobiography of us.
To live, to breathe in the essence of where the ocean sprays against the gleam of your shades.
The hull of yachts splashing against the oncoming waves.
The ripeness of fresh fruit served at local vendors hidden from the sun harvested by kind hands.
The only thing missing is a good pair of shoes.

Or perhaps lay here with you just a bit longer

The deepest grief I believe I've ever suffered was journeying through the extremes of true happiness.
To some extent I don't look at you as the same person.
Just because it's a thought of you doesn't mean I should be entertained by it, although it is a thought occurring inside of my own head.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith.
At what point does metaphysics become alchemy.
The mark of an educated man scribbling on an enlightened woman.
The whom the how's and what not's
The true statement where knowing becomes understanding.
At these times anger misconstrues everything.
The simple wildness of the mind venturing into what the heart feels.
A lion seeking to devour the silhouette of where a lioness once stood.
Without color is it still considered prejudice.
A heartfelt contemplation which the mind deciphers a million different ways.
Sticks and stones swept under the fault of closed  eyelids.
The deepest grief dug by expectation.
The best intentions made empty by the deepest grief.
Motorized hands starting anew once the clock strikes twelve : twelve.
Repeating the thoughts that often replay on an daily basis.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith

As I stood.
I noticed I was on fire.
Every inch of me consumed.
Engulfed.
Losing oxygen I gasped.
Expanding with each sigh that escaped this happening.
I stood helpless.
Was there anything other that I could do.
Watching the flame cacade over me.
Cracking an unknown desire.
To what cost, standing there
Consumed.
I was no longer froze, beginning to slump in every direction.
My oxygen breathing life into each crackle.
Residing in the coal my body became.
Scattering bit by bit in the wind.
Through the skies I burned.
Me and her.
Covering me with a warmth I've never felt.
Sitting down running my hands through sharp stings of hair.
That's exactly what I needed to survive.
Something new, something out of the ordinary

Made of peanuts I feared the hand that searched for me so adamantly.
Watching the strange horror across agonized faces.
The bitter crunch of teeth.
The dissipation of silent screams.
Why not the cashew beside me.
All he does is laugh,
I blame the commercial for all of this, at least he got to keep his shell.
This totally wasn't what I had in mind when I said I'd meet you halfway.
Paralyzed in fear I sat.
Watching this hand pat all around me.
A total invasion of privacy.
Rattling what sanity I had left.
Sometimes it feels like I'm losing my mind.
Trapped in an empty container with nowhere to go.
Of all days why couldn't you rinse your mouth with something else.
Finally finding that annoying cashew,
If I could close my eyes and pretend it was all a bad dream.
Sweating inside of these tin walls.
If only I would have known that the world was going to end today.
I'd probably cover myself in chocolate and pretend I was someone else.
I would have hatched the perfect escape plan.
Here's to hoping I get caught in your throat so you'd have no other choice but spit me out.
Stupid Planters peanut guy

There I was.
Loitering in the lobby of her heart, after a long flight the only thing on my mind was rest.
The aroma was nice, stepping in through the double doors.
Following the stretch of carpet to the front desk.
Air conditioner stationed right above the door soon as you walked in.
Almost feeling myself sink into the splash of a fresh comforter.
I stood at the front counter waiting to be checked in.
Didn't quite feel like home.
The longer I waited the more anxious I became.
Messing around with the pen chained to the desk.
Making circles and snake like motions with the chain.
Noticing the dust under one of those small relaxation fountains at the closest end of the receptionist's desk.
The hum growing louder signifying that the water needed to be refilled.
More interesting.
There were no vacancies.
Good that I made reservations a month before time.
Noticing the aquarium over by the elevator.
There I stood loitering in the lobby.
Patiently waiting.
After a while, it sinks in that all lobbies are the same.
An endless void of waiting.
Was it absurd that I envied the fish watching me from the aquarium.
It's a strong possibility that he fell asleep watching me wait as the receptionist hasn't quite made it back yet

The letters I never sent still sit and collect dust.
An novels worth of thoughts filled with you.
The time taken, conveying something not so easily read aloud.
If by the time I do send these letters your thought will still be present.
Sealed with the accordance that I imagined your lips before licking and sealing it shut.
Of course not every letter is of a serious tone.
There has to be some silliness somewhere.
Smiles scribbled to and from the end of the flap.
Letters nicely tucked, a hint of cologne still lingering about.
Words floating from one page to the next.
Hoping you see my face in every line in the letters I never sent.
Simplifying the significance of how much I thought of you.
Facing a blank sheet of paper soon to be filled.
Attempting a million and one ways to confess all the unique and special
things that make you, well.
You.
No one is you.
Remember that, as by the end of this letter I'll imagine placing my lips against your forehead.
That's enough for me.
As the letters I've never sent will soon become a novel devoted to the many times I've sat and thought of you

Normally there isn't anything
Special about an normal hello.
Most use it as an scapegoat to avoid awkward tension.
That weird silence that sits in an strange exchange of nothingness.
But this particular exchange was inevitable.
Sharing something true with a complete stranger.
trailing the sound of laughter, the sound of connecting eyes.
Staring at her I could see her smile swallowed by the crinkles of her cheeks.
By this time I was unsure of my imminent doom.
All things ****** into a complete void of nothingness.
Bringing to attention that I was soon to be blown into an weird yet satisfying oblivion.
Sitting there smiling into her eyes.
The infinite chance of a reoccurring moment.
Swallowed whole by the expanding effect of oblivion.
An expanding light flickering in the glitter of darkness
Closed in the gap of her hands

It's hard sometimes you know,
Savoring something sweet.
You just don't want it to disappear as it's a shortage on delectable things.
So many things lose their flavor after a while and its like **** not again.
I mean the memory is always there but every now and then you just want that good mouth feel, like **** that was good.
Okay maybe that was just lazy.
But seriously having to go through the hassle of taking apart a wrapper
Time and time again.
Having to remove this or that.
Come on let's get to the good part already.
The ****** of flavor exploding into your mouth.
That private moment you can just be yourself anytime or any place.
The Ecstasy of it all.
The peace found after destroying something so beautiful.
At some point we're all savage. Face it.
The moment of build up, the anticipation of waiting for the very moment you finally get your hands on what you crave.
That one voice in the back of your head that pretends to act calmly.
That one voice arguing in the background saying do that ****. What's calm about what your doing.
Hell it's all one in the same.
But only the saint's whom attend Church every so often are the only ones
whom deny such a carnal desire when everyone is around.
Hahaha The Devil is something else ain't he

I can't unlove because I am
Impatient, selfish.
I love as if I cannot be hurt.
Going on as if nothing is wrong.
I cannot unlove because I know not how.
I spend my nights awake dreaming of how everything should have been.
The speeches I have amongst myself
Lost in complete darkness.
Accepting the sound of my voice as an I told you so.
Seeking a dream that seems so far away.
I can't unlove because I accept disappointment.
The contempt of putting others first without fear.
I truly believe I cannot unlove because I am in love.
Young again in thought running wild, free.
I consider it a perk.
Being the only other person I know how to be.
No longer embarrassed of facing the opposite end of the mirror.
Finding that the most important things bring the most smiles.
I am far from perfect
But I cannot unlove as if I made some sort of mistake.
Purposely mistaking myself as a fool

Mid way up the mountain, I turned around.
A solace breezed through the clouds, now older.
This sudden amnesia covered in snow.
This reoccurring season, was I ever changed.
Now grown with age.
The jagged edge between my fingers.
I grew self conscious.
An utter of silence hushed in the wind.
I sought rescue without proper justification.
The sights from here were breathtaking.
Watching breath turn to frost.
The cabin seemed so small from here.
Elevated peeping down on a snow covered roof.
All things considered I sought escape.
Confined to a small place with the blaze of an fireplace.
Quite funny how somethings change.
The sloping feel of emotion.
Feet scattering through ice regaining balance.
I was naked before the whole world.
Standing there before the mountain let out a hard cough.
Was I still the same.

Slipping off the ledge,
Holding on while watching a field of snow rush towards me.
I suppose the only reasonable thing to do.
Is let go.

This avalanche was you