In the book of her
There is a chapter often skipped.
Soft spoken, never read aloud.
In the book of her
This chapter is chaperone by guilt, regret
A wonderful chapter not easily accepted by those whom thumb straight to it
Often the chapter after is most fulfilling.
This unique chapter is what makes her well her
No fancy words, no editorial staff
Just the thoughts she keeps to herself.
The wonderful thoughts often seen as constellations that fill the night sky
A combustion of goofy laughs Noone hears and conversations amongst herself.
A priceless vocabulary of made up words and unused slogans
A chapter that keeps up with all of her cheat dates filled with loads of chocolate drenched with more chocolate.
The things that are all worthwhile as well as the things that make her feel insecure.
In the book of her
This is one of the best chapters
One hardly anyone stops to read

Building a relationship takes time.
A slow becoming of each other's identity.
A steady student in a firm desk where attendance is vital and homework isn't necessarily done with pen and paper.
To willingly give until nothing is left, to get on each other's nerves and have the courage to look each other in the eye and admit that your wrong, to say I love you deeper. Finding compromise in the smaller things.
Discovering new meaning rather than dismissing yourself every chance granted.
The building blocks to a firm foundation.
To create a support system that relies solely on devotion.
The care of another through sickness and in health.
To humble yourself in another, to find wisdom in sharing yourself.
Falling inside and out of problems without knowing the combination to every lock.
Each locker holding something different.
The impact found in arms reach of each other.
Where communication is vocalized in a different tone.
Every moment is precious, allowing yourself to be yourself with another.
A student whose back pack otherwise empty, now filled with knowledge.
Finally finding to solve for X when different variables are thrown in parenthesis.
The Y no longer important, finding a deeper meaning.
The things otherwise they never teach you at school.
Finding a love that never takes constant glances at the clock

Colors primarily exist knowing one specific hue,
Neutral in a sense, knowing nothing of the vivid expectation that exists outside of itself.
Then comes the brush revealing more than meets the eye.
Each bristle moist with enlightenment.
The innocence of a sudden touch brimming at the edge of comfort,
discussing need to further exploration.
This expectation which broadens the spectrum.
A social anxiety now left behind but still lives in fear.
This is where you come in,
The zest of something new.
Experiences otherwise thought about, yet never acted upon.
The distance between the colors are filled by the brush,
creating something totally new altogether.
Although the color is either brighter or darker,
The experience is still the same.
The intensity of longing for one another, no longer alone.
Peeping behind a glass curious about the what if's of curiosity.
Adding large detail to the picture painted on the grains of canvas
Expanding in contrast to which point of view is used to view the picture
But still lost in a nervous jitter of being lost in a feeling that's altogether brand new.
This broad spectrum of mixing colors to make something brand new.
Committing to the outside world for better or worse upon the criticism of dark hues that make shadows out of the light cast on one another.
This spectrum between you and I.
Whose color can be a favorite if we both dwell in delight,
The simple awe of one another, no longer viewing things as one sided
but in the broad spectrum for things provided by you

Today I decided to pack a bag & take a trip,
Although the roads were the same,
I wanted to go somewhere I have never been.
Traveling a highway vast in length can be so mundane,
There are only so many ways you can go in a straight line.
I wanted to go somewhere I've always dreamt,
To partake in sights every time my eyes closed.
Memories that make it seem like I'm still there. Although gone.
Bright lit stars soon kindling the stretch of sun leading the way. 
The complete and utter randomness of your smile.
The spontaneous moments that last forever in the blink of an eye.
A Ferris wheel paused in motion at the very height of it's spin.
At times I feel like I can touch the sky.
This hesitation of a fluttering heart that races in disbelief, that this in fact
is real. That I am floating sitting still. Paying no never mind that I am afraid of heights.
To wear you with every ****** expression that crosses my face.
If I told you about this height of ascension, would breathing still be considered easy.
The entrance to a paradise of thought, just thinking about getting away.
With words unspoken, the mechanisms move,
Thrusting forward in motion. Falling face first into the thought of you,
Learning about you with a deep stare of unspoken motions, the things no one else knows as the sun is replaced by deep shadows.
A devotion to the fire that rests behind your eye.
The end comes so soon, I had just gotten here.
I have to plan another trip soon as I still haven't explored all the sights

If you were a song you'd be number one on my playlist.
No matter how much time would past.
I'd never get tired of hearing you.
Theres not enough radio time for how much I think your voice needs to be heard.
You are too beautiful for words.
Finding time for all of your songs is like making love.
The two of us lost in a moment hung on continuous repeat.
A grin spread ear to ear.
Nominated for the grammy of my heart.
Your fabulous taste in music.
The vocals that feel like they were written for me.
Within the first ten seconds I am in complete ecstasy.
The advance my heart makes.
Skipping it's beat to the rhythm of your heart.
If I can be the next venue you choose to perform.
You'd never have to question why'd it take so long to appreciate you.
Bobbing my head to the vibe you give.
The smile spread across my lips.
Your the only thing I need circulating through my headphones

With a body made of paper, he went outside to feel the drops of rain.
Leaving behind an aluminum roof, cardboard siding.
He extended his arm feeling the calmness of her splash. Exploding into a million more drops.
It began to rain harder. With her granting his very wish.
He stood there for a moment. Rain drenching him with an excitement he'd never before felt.
He fell to the ground in a puddle of her longing.
She pressed her face against his neck and cried.
His blue and red lines began to melt. Trailing down into the puddle.
He weighed himself in her depth, feeling the ripple of her hand lap against his face.
He suffocated in that moment.
Unfolding himself against her curve,
Loosing form of his body. His tongue in tune with hers.
Epsom salt to the ache of sore muscles.
This was the effect she had on him.
The first time him facing an outer body experience.
Floating about until they both evaporated.
With him holding every drop of her, until there was nothing left
Baptized within each others temple
Heads folded down. Enveloping each other

I loved the way she looked at me.
Even if it was for a brief second, I would always stop what I was doing.
She had a knack for making me forget the simplest of things.
Often times making me stand outside of myself.


She looked at me.
And I was in a full length feature movie.
Surrounded by a bunch of characters before the plot shifts to us.
I'd watch as her pupils dilate.
The way her conversation changed from the way I heard her previously.
Before bumping into me.

 
She'd look at me but wouldn't  see me at all.
She'd see that I had a bit going for myself.
That I had a good head on my shoulders.
That nine times out of ten, I would stop if she seemed like she was in distress.
With so much going on it's hard to tell what's real from fake.

 
Frankly, I didn't mind it.
The way she looked at me.
It's been a while since I've seen myself in eyes that large.
It appeared that I was in a movie the way we met.
The way our conversation would last for hours.

 
Whenever she would speak it made it that much easier to forget that she didn't see me at all.
Honestly I haven't seen me in a long time.
The way that I use to be.

Times like this I'd search the bed for her.
To throw my arm around her.
Kiss her in mid sleep.
The comfort of warm blankets.
Knowing that shes that warm lump, kept warm between two sheets, a blanket, and my warmth.
My arm becoming heavier by the moment.
Some nights she'll turn to me.
My arms forming a slight bend curving behind her, her arms stretched underneath mine.
Before losing total consciousness,
We'd hold each other in our arms before waking up, bodies spread everywhere.
Her leg draped over me.
Our bodies dead to the world.
At times like this we depended on the weight of each other,
To fill the gasp of what made us most comfortable

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 the back of the
Bar, the spider sits in wait
The fly strips its clothes

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 wondered in sleep
Body momentarily still,
The alarm goes off

Your voice is my favorite sound.
Every day, I listen effortlessly.
Every single word.
From early morning
Every late night.
I am in constant bliss.
The most beautiful sound coming from your lips.
From the most private of conversations
To the silliest of things.
Your voice puts me at ease
No matter what kind of day I've had
Laying on the couch not a thing to do.
Summer time vibes
Outside all times of the night like I don't
have to go to work in the morning.
Your voice a perfect nostalgia
Of how I wish I'd met you sooner.
I am counting down the seconds until I see you again

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

Their feathers surrounded by the many trees and the many houses that sit down below.
They don't know the meaning of cages, why should they.
The majority of them that are fortunate,
The thoughts that make us feel in-etiquette.
Self doubt,
The reason their chrup's reign the highest.
The majority that are fortunate.
Rejoicing in the moment presented as now.
Repenting with each flap of their wings.
They are free.
Sitting on top of cable wires and cable poles.
Warming their feet.
Taking the many offers the world presents to them as the things we overlook.
A small reminder that silence is necessary

With the millions and trillions of sparks that light the night sky.
I sat and wished upon the brightest one I saw.
Not once did I think that it would stop in mid flight.
Not once did I think anything planetary would listen to something so small.
A prayer sincere in meaning.
Two physical beings connecting on a spiritual plane.
The manifestation of deep longing burning bright in the night sky.
The law of attraction causing mass commotion against the other stars.
A nervous jitter becoming a representative of deep stares, the connection of eyes.
Watching you hover close to me. Revealing how big you truly are.
The one spark that refused the rest of the match stick, burning for all eternity.
A curious question, would you accept me as I am.
The slightest touch of hearts orbiting a single thought that leads to many.
A rendezvous of hearts missing something unforgettable.
The compilation of stars appearing smaller the close you get.
Arms stretching wider welcoming your embrace.
A huge space rock chipped off along the edges.
In comparison I would be a pebble filling the crater that needed it most.
A fragile thing. Giving ones self to something in belief of fulfillment.
The height of tides now risen to the soles of my shoes. Inching closer to my knees.
In all honesty,
I'll drown in you forever if it means I'll never get this close to you again.

I let go.
Finding that I still care.
Placing blame as a means to cope with how I felt towards you.
The rush of things that have transpired.
The thought of things that may not be the same.
In turn I lashed out in self defense in every argument you started.
Receding every inch of my heart.
Every inch that I shared with you.
In that moment all you saw was disappointment.
That not of my own.
A deep hurt that signified love in a tender moment of hurt.
A rash thought that just wanted to grab you & shake you until you understood.
Meanwhile screaming on the inside.
Screaming for you to realize that nothing could take the place of what I felt for you.
Screaming internally for this pain to go back to the smile it use to know so adamantly.
With nothing else to do, I let go.
Falling forever in thought.
Feeling my life crash against the ground.
Nothing mattered at that time except how you perceived me.
That deep well of affection that I so wanted to fall into again and again.
That somehow that I tarnished everything that we shared.
Until I realized that you never intended to feel the way that I felt about you.
That you sought a shoulder to lean on in your own leisure.
A temporary fix

I stumbled upon a skeleton,
Upon finding it. I picked it up and took it back home laying it on the table.
I stared long and hard at the dried up bones, letting my eyes wander up and down.
I grabbed a few blankets, anything I could find to compensate for everything that was missing.
Going out and about the streets getting everything I could to revive the skeleton.
Watching the bottom jaw drop and turn my direction.
A broken spirit that's long forgotten the touch of a generous hand.
A sudden change, watching a pale figure fill with color.
The time taken finding piece by piece, doing my best to stitch together all the fragments I found.
Watching it lay on the table, a full skeleton.
Now filled with flesh, play doe. Anything I could find.
I filled it with every essence of my dream girl, perfectly sculpting her face until perfection.
There wasn't anything superficial or vain about this, what I was attempting was creating love at first sight.
Accepting the good as well as the tragic misfortune of stumbling upon a skeleton.

Pacing back and forth at first then deciding to pick it up.
Dark holes filling the spaces where eyes use to be.
Going out finding different bits and pieces to fit a personality other than my own.

I grew excited at the very thought.
A happening, bonding with something other than myself.
It felt natural, feeling my thoughts roll off of my tongue.
My time was no longer my own.
Watching her slowly come back to life.

Filling her with a bit of my philosophy. My experiences.
I conversed while she lay there in silence.

Her eyebrow curved, Trying to make sense of everything that's going on.

She eventually began to move, she began to speak, filling me with her past experiences

Thoughts and ideas.

The more that time went on,

The more I became of her.

She noticed the subtle change of how quiet I became.

The will to want to do anything now gone.

Her face drooped over now staring at me with those deep dark spaces I have yet to fill.

Before I could ask what was wrong she revealed a dark truth about her past.

Correcting her face in the mirror.

She told me that she watched me pace back and forth, debating whether or not to leave her there.

That due to the curse that was placed on her, no matter what happens she will forever be a monster.

Devouring those that encounter her.

I pleaded that I meant to do her no harm, to no avail.

The damage was done

The only time I
feel remotely above average
Is when I am drunk

Particularly the application of beauty fades,
Unless applied skin deep.
Products brought in vain.
A practice that follows as is.
A thoughtful perception of truth.
A light that shines each time she smiles

I seen heaven in a dream and like all good things
It ends to soon.
Eight hours narrowed down to short memory.
Lopsided sheets tucked comfortably in a discounted comforter.
Just before I waking up I heard a voice call my name.
A soothing voice layered in comfort.
Not once did I move. A place moist in anticipation.
Very rarely do I get to travel.
And good things come to end too soon.
The memory of smiling faces seen on a lukewarm day.
An older man sat at an iron wrought table.
Reading to himself the details of spaghetti and fork.
A slight twirl of long noodles punctuated by a piece of meat.
Next time I come I'll have to eat there.
By the open door with chalk on a board.

Going to sleep watching the food network definitely has it's consequences.

Being woke from one of the best dreams ever.
The sound of a rumbling stomach.
And an empty fridge

She walks in, her eyes like soft pencil lines.
She smiles when she looks at the waitress,
ordering a coffee.

I sip mine slow, looking out the diner window.

“You always draw this late?” she asks.

Only when I can’t sleep. Or when I’m hungry.
Just depends on which one happens first.

She rolls her eyes.

Falling feels like a good pen that suddenly runs out of ink.

Normally, when I draw, I’m in my own little world.
No conversation. Just my graphite and my sketchpad.
Of all the beautiful colors that life can arrange,
I admit—I’m intrigued by this woman.

I completely put my pencil down and let my coffee get cold.
But that’s how fast inspiration strikes.

This grayscale drawing, splashed with the rainbow that is her.

Although I’m listening, I keep my head down,
pretending I’m still drawing the picture I was working on
when she first walked in.

She sits two booths away, hesitating before asking,
“Can you draw me?”

I look up immediately.
“You’d have to come closer.”

I catch the reflection of the city in her eyes—
the blinking sign outside, the brake lights from the cars.

I flip the page and start tracing lines on my sketchpad.

She tilts her head, watching my progress.
I ask the waitress for a refill.

“Do you ever draw people you don’t know?”

I look at her, smile, and say, “No.”

At some point, we see everyone before we really meet them.

In a way, it wasn’t a lie.
I have seen her somewhere before.
Or at least, I’ve thought of meeting someone
who looks the way she looks.

But then again, art is subjective.

She watches me over the rim of her mug as she sips her coffee.

She leans forward.
“What do you see when you look at me?”

The most beautiful things happen at unexpected moments.

Normally, when someone asks a question like that,
if you answer too fast, it’s a lie.
If you take too long, it’s a lie.

Before I knew it, I told her:
“Someone that talks to strangers when she’s bored.”

She rolls her eyes.
“Let me see.”

I show her the sketch,
point at it, and imitate her voice.
“Can you draw me?”

It’s not exactly polished.

She studies the rough graphite,
scratched to life between the pores of the page.

She rests her elbows on the table.

Before she answers, I speak first.

“I think about what things can be, versus what’s presented to us.
If we tell each other something deep about ourselves—
a strong 7.5 out of 10—it’s going to be either forgettable
or full of ****. Either way, we’re both hoping
not to regret opening up
to someone who’s just going to nod and smile.”

She smirks.
“If I told you I love the progress on the picture so far, what then?”

I shrug.
“I’d still think you’re full of ****.
But you’re kind of cute.”

Falling feels like a good pen that suddenly runs out of ink.

To be honest, I don’t think it’s the uncertainty of where I’d land.
I haven’t exactly lived my life by the advice I give other people.

I never really think about the end of things.

Whatever I do, I just go with it and expect the best.
I think about it, of course.
But eventually, the ink runs out.

That’s just life.

Although I’m drawing her physically,
in my mind, I’ve drawn the curve of her neck twice over.

The thought of drawing someone else
doesn’t even come to mind

Sing me a song.
Sang me one them short but long songs,
One them type songs you like to sang that I like to hear about.
To be honest I don't care what you sang.
Just put one word in front of the other and move your lips.
God knows your the only thing that keeps me calm.
And your the closest to heaven I got.
When I got you everythangs gonna be alright.
I'm gonna pour me one of them long weary drinks and escape to whatever key you sang.
My life got nothing but holes.
I'll be ****** if you didn't fill every one of em.
If it ain't one thang its another, then you die.
At the end of this long weary drank.
I'll stop all the clocks. No particular place to be.
I'll knock on an angels door,
What ever key you sang.
Sing me a song.
Make it long and pretty

You live between the space
of my fingers,
the caress between my lips.

I only remember when I forget.

Like last night
I thought of you, and it felt like
you were there.

Suddenly, my hands felt like yours
Were there.

Creep is such a bad word,
But there is no other way
to describe it.
I swear I was not thinking about you
only to realize that I was.

And then, I felt the familiar weight of your presence.

You live between the space of my thoughts,
somewhere that's not a dream
but also not just a memory.

When I close my eyes,
you are there,
and I question if you're thinking of me.

Every time I think
and I realize it—
you disappear.

But the weight
the weight of you
I'll never forget.

I only remember when I forget

The stone that the builder refused,
Seeking refuge of purpose, justifying reason.
The cornerstone of structure, a cement paste.
Made solid through belief, faith that nothing is in vain.
The cracks and chipped edges smoothed out, made fresh.
The testimonial that throughout change, we remain strong.
Although ruin is soon to fall, the foundation remains.
Direct contact made between eye and hand.
Reaching over something based off appearance.
Sulk covered stone, passed over again.
The same stone provides shelter, protection.
What could justify such action, the coming of regret
Not knowing the perception of purpose.
The stone that the builder refused will be the very one you come running back to in time of need,
As wood often folds and bends.
The hammering of nails and twist of screws cannot change that
Self indulgent contractor

And it goes with undying gratitude
That our disagreement has set in motion
An unyielding paradox.
That perhaps has chipped away more than
we care to admit.
Generally speaking the process of removing mask
from face.
A necessary belief that doesn't present inferiority of wrong doing.
But instead defines the basic principle definition in the same breath.
That I am deep rooted in my belief & any further denial
would lead to my complete & utter ignorance.
That I have seen what you've done & now believe the mask
that is now chipped away has become nothing but ash in the wind.
And I forever grateful.
With undying gratitude

I know you, Moon
Shining pieces of light
that are not your own.

As beautiful as you are,
as full as you look,
there are pieces of yourself
that you hide in the dark
the empty patches
left by those who took
but never gave.

If I could, I'd
climb
up
next to you
and offer you a
piece
of myself,
to make you feel whole.

I, too, know
what it's like
to
hide
pieces
of
yourself.

At least with you,
that piece will be called beautiful,
and no one will know the difference
except for you and me.
I know you, Moon

I use to love her
Two strangers lost on the street,
She never once called

And like that
I was strung out on every word she spoke
Overwhelmed by such sensation I didn't want to interrupt
I mean everyone has one greeting or another
But this
This was *** being passed from lip to lip
The tightening of eyebrows engaged in thought provoking euphoria
The tingling of ears
Rather difficult keeping the mind off anything other than.
But contrary to expression
I sat dumbfounded
The biggest knot on the log
Filling gaps of silence.
I practically grabbed the light from the ceiling and shone it on her
Inviting myself into every phrase every fragment that came out of her mouth
Anything to keep her talking.
The things that would come out of this woman's mouth
At that moment
I was convinced that I needed to pack a bag and move
Her whole face lit with such delight
Every wrinkle, every indentation
The only problem was finding the perfect spot to call home

Most of my adult life
I've found a lot of past times
Soon my phone will die

If I gave you my love.
You'd have to be good to me.
All the freak things to be explored.
One moment after the next.
If I gave you my love.
All the things I'd tell you.
The nights where I'd be nowhere but by your side.
The nights I'd wear you out, wake you up and wear you out again.
If I gave you my love.
I'd want the same thing tomorrow and the day after.
All the trouble we'd get into.
If I gave you my love.
I wouldn't need a doctor.
To heal all these aches and pains.
My morning flower.
To see how good it feels.
Being in my care.
If only you knew.
How much I do.
Want to give you my love

And it is this reason that I feel that I can never go home.
Because I know not where it exists.
Familiar faces that exist with a bit of a twist.
Those same smiles & well wishes are never what they seem.
If heaven lasts only for a second.
Be as it may, then ignorance is truly bliss.
For reason that needs no further explanation.
I've built this place in my mind that feels alot like home.
But misses the main components that make it home.
If heaven lasts but a second.
I'd rather not be forced to drink the bitter milk of it's truth.
There are many sides to a face at any given angle.
Which one is you, which is me.
In enough time things change.
In even more time, it gets hard to spot the subtle difference.
Was I ever there to begin

I want to consume you with my every breath
Replacing myself with you piece by piece
I consider it outrageous
The way you fill my lungs
The obvious determination of mind body and soul
Making yourself a side effect of my abuse
My self neglect
My bad habit
The obvious press of you against my lips
Civil, the way you present yourself
Engaged by the touch of lips
Engulfed in your total embrace
A mouthful of clarity sitting for seemingly a moment before losing all self control
Requesting that I do so again
And again
A pleasure shared between us both, loudly spoken.
It's almost impossible
Imaging myself lost in habit
Disclosing a part of myself not easily seen
Doing so
And choosing to do so again
Imposing a mentality that causes moral concern
If you should ever leave
Extinguishing the spark felt between wood and surface
A fearful behavior
The smothering of external emotion
Closing the gap between argument
Confiscating my words for silence
This urge of consolation
Where would I go
The aches and pain of woe
Positive in the way I held you
Listening to a library of thought
Admiring your gorgeous posture
Suggesting I embrace you again
And again
The fume of dysfunction never felt so beautiful
The beauty in self destruction for another
Craving a choice that was no longer mine

I could not see tomorrow without the view of the sunrise reflecting off of your eyes,
If somewhere far off the coast,
The waves echoed soundlessly.
I'd imagine your voice filling the gap in the times you were most happy.
This deep feeling that something was truly missing when on the surface everything appeared fine.
To what response do I owe the hands that created us to be,
What would happen if indeed the waves went without sound.
I dare not think, regardless of their loss of sleep.
The wanting of something deeper, the needing of something that fills the depth of eyes that long for tomorrow.
The three dimensional sphere that revolves around your very thought.
This faith that if the waves should ever stop, that you would be there to lull me to sleep,
Not just with your beautiful voice, but the patter of your heart against my ear,
The innermost faith that reacts without a single thought,
The extension of God's love living and breathing through every move, every thought that you have.
The very beginning of each and every thought I have of you
Without cease or end

There really isn't a reason to become complacent,
Don't worry about insecurity as there is no better time than now.
Regardless of what I am doing or what is going on there is always time.
What ever thought that attempts to pursue the angels from your shoulder.
What ever storm cloud that threatens the halo hanging above your head.
I'll be there to protect you in your time of need.
To reassure that the lightening you fear is just the sizzle of how comfortable my heart is, laying in the palm of your hand.
Though at times some thoughts will become mutual, just as I've been through some things.
I know you have too, and don't at all consider this a attempt to buy
or sway you of anything different.
Sculpting stone replication of you. Devoting my time making sure every feature is as close to perfect as possible.
What ever has happened before is just that, and would never constrict the blocks that I've placed around you to keep you safe.
Art takes on may a form and there will be no vandalism of any feature on you.
I admit, as each day grows shorter there is a high priority of what we make precious.
A small devotion of time stacked and organized to reach the height of eternity,
And with each day you grow more precious.
learning more about you. Stacking block against block until the realm of heaven is reached.
Seeing you for you and not just the hard exterior that you present to protect yourself from the world.
 
Choosing to instead loath in picture perfect representation of arms
Of the statue I've built of you.
Molding your smile in clay, soon to harden for all to see.
Folding your hands in ultimate prayer as the birds mock the many angels that float around your head.
Taking a minute only to rest in your arms, to continue building the rest of you
In due time.
Basking in just how precious you are

For each of the numbers printed on her face,
I counted each of them for every second that passed.
Three long arms that reached around eclipsing themselves.
One painted red in reflection of how fast my heart would beat.
Counting each mark that filled the gap of each bold number.
Counting down from the twelve o'clock hour. Reaching twelve again.
I fell in love. A continuing loop of numbers falling face forward then back around.
Seeing everything that I may have missed the first time around.
The sights already seen becoming more precious. Both of us together, close as breath.
A plastic case protecting us from hesitation, how long it would take to pass again.
The revolution of seconds it would take, orbiting my world for the millionth first time.
I didn't care that she painted her stars black and an infinite space around white.
For the first time this would be the closest that I would ever come to the ethereal experience
that I'd feel to be eternity.
For the millionth first time

The heart shaped piggy bank
rolled down the street.
You waited until the door was open
and then rolled right out.
I slid my last dollar in,
building towards something more
something more than paper-thin
ambition,
a future that includes you,
in some shape or form.

I don’t know how you fell,
or how you got down from the shelf.
Better a dollar bill
than my hand stuck inside you.
I’m glad you didn’t break.
I fed you all my dreams,
all my ambitions.
It’s no wonder you didn’t explode
when you hit the ground,
waiting for something real

Falling asleep in your heart
is like déjà vu.
a place I’ve never been,
but it feels familiar at the same time.
I don’t mean to creep you out,
but I know every nook and cranny.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep,
but of all the places I could have,
I’m glad that I did here.

Your heartbeat,
the pulse that cracks
and settles like a house,
although not mine,
it feels like home,
like somewhere I belong.

I normally don’t fall asleep
in places I haven’t been.
It takes a while to get accustomed,
especially if it’s my first time there.
Although it’s déjà vu,
and it could be one of those things,
I’m already looking forward
to the next time
falling asleep somewhere in you,
somewhere warm,
somewhere I belong

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

We were anointed, becoming one with stained glass.
We delivered ourself.
Resonating bible verses with solid ground.
An infinite shiver in the form of chill bumps across slender arms.
We prayed away anything that wasn't of you.

The Genesis of new beginnings
The arch of open books laid across our laps, we prayed.
We prayed hard. Enclosed were the whispers of closed eyes.
Remaining humble through hard times.
The times we remembered you were there, 
I loved her before I knew you, most highest of the high

discovering that heaven wasn't as far as it seemed.
An ethereal experience. The mysterious way that you work.
We prayed hard, forgetting the things that took place around us.
Deciphering verse after verse.
The Exodus of whom we were resolved in complete Revelation.
Finding jewels in the form of scripture.
We placed them around our necks, around our finger. The seal of a promise.

Finding that vanity too has it's price, through the good. Through the bad.
We found calm in the place of a great storm.
Hands clasped together in faith. 
We found peace in the alter of tightly pressed hands.
The precious lines of fingers and palms fitting the groove of one another.
Filling the gaps of deep woven grooves.

Flourishing the branch of arms, entwining. Discovering the fruit of silence.
With hands like soil our legs like roots.
No matter the wind

Heaven only knows

A horn in jazz is a lot like a heart.
At times it blares it's loudest in love.  19

 

At times a pin drops in silence.
The neighbors won't complain. 14

 

I never thought God to be a fan of blues.
My ears like an open door.  17

Late at night
When there's no place to go.
Sometimes I visit the library of your smile.
But not for one particular reason or another.
Sometimes I go because it's so well lit.
Engaging in the silence of a smile.
Sometimes when it's late
I am most comfortable there.
The urge of going somewhere yet everywhere
Between the bookcase of your lips.
Following the ridges & creases that most people
walk by without second glance.
Sometimes there just isn't enough time in the day,
Following the adventures and misadventures
of earth tone browns
Reference guides & resources.
To volunteer to such precious things
Late at night when I have no where to go
I visit the library of your smile.
But not because I have no where to go
There is no place like you around.
All in proper regard to the staff

What is this perpetual sensation.
This marrow that feeds bone in natural detox
cleansing at first sight through throbbing hearts.
A state of euphoric action perceived by a smile.
A spectrum of different colors, coinciding with one another.
Depicted as spiritual from one eye to the next.
Though physical it remains mental,
Transpired from one soul to the next.
Retaining the knowledge of former self,
Yearning to experience the thought of someone else.
This occurrence of two hearts beating in unison.
The honesty of something so simple,
The after thought of things transpired, constantly relived.
There isn't anything subtle about this,
It is as it is without resentment.
Without guilt.
Considering the empathy of another, likes, dislikes.
Discovering the beauty of a selfless mind.
Spotless in nature,
Honestly following the footprints of a single thought,
Imploring understanding.
No longer selfish being associated in the trust of another,
A plump fruit, blossomed flourishing from chest to chest.
the taste of each others heart
Nourishing whatever ache, whatever pain
No longer existent

They love to say
we bring out the best in each other
that I bring out the best in you,
like that's the only thing I am good for,
the only reason I am in your life.

They smile
and point.

It won’t last.
Eventually, he will leave.
Even the moon goes through phases.

As if I’ll just
pack my bags
and leave you behind,

as if I could just
erase my entire existence.

Baby,
I love how they think
you cannot think
for yourself.

your friends,
all the people around you.

They think they know
the truth
when they see me
half the time.

Baby,
I understand
the concept,
the concern.

But even the moon
doesn’t fully disappear,
If you look closer.

Just because they don’t see it
doesn’t mean
I’ve left your sky.

Some things
are just meant
for you.

No matter
how much they point,
or try to pull you
to the side,

there is no hiding
from you

My bones ache from all  
the cleaning I've done.  
I've cleaned up all the dust  
and finally hit the floorboards that  
I always tell myself that I’m going to clean.  
The patches in my life that always seem to be going right, until I look closer.

I've picked up and sorted through  
all the clothes I've let pile up  
on the couch.  
The clothes that have waited  
for someone to come in and take  
the place of.  
I've cleaned between the cracks  
of the tiles in the kitchen  
and scrubbed down the walls  
Of my heart.  
Although I am tired, I still keep going.  
I haven't felt  
this way in a long time.  
I feel alive,  
making room in my heart for someone new.  

I've gotten rid of  
all the things that I thought  
held meaning in my life.  
The ghost of the person I thought  
I was, now in the trash.  
I hear him screaming,  
waving his hands around, asking hey what happened.
I am making room for you in my heart
with every intention  
of hoping that you'll stay.  
Or at the very least, leave a part of you  
With me.  
I've cleaned between the cracks  
of the tiles in the kitchen  
and scrubbed down all the walls,
Even the parts behind the furniture.

I am ready, whenever you are  
comfortable enough to move in.
I'll even help unpack

I try to make you laugh as much as I can.
Still you sleep.
I have trouble dozing off.
To catch the part of my dream you laugh the hardest.
Soon as I am out good.
I wake right back up.
Aware that there is no such sleep.
Still I try

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

The heart is a fragile thing,  
Only able to hold so much.  
Like a ship  
Sailing through a storm.  
Some make it through.  
Others, water fills the hull.  
  
Wave after wave,  
Try as you might.
You must stay afloat
The best way you can.  
No matter how many patches,  
Water still leaks in.  
Just like a heart,  
Pumping, but weighed down.
You must keep going.  
Take the proper precautions,
Jump overboard,
Swim if you must,  
No matter how many lies  
Have poked and prodded  
At your heart.  
No matter how many holes  
Have pierced your soul.  
Don’t drown.  
As long as you keep kicking,  
The sun will always shine.
Not all beautiful locations are
charted on a map

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

Late into the night,
a fire rages on,
devouring everything it sets its sight on.
memories, splinters, concreate and rubble.
still, it wants more,
nibbling on silence, the dark of the night
itself.
its tongue stretches and laps,
its stomach nowhere near full.
it twists and turns, ignoring
the tug of its shadow.
it wants what it wants,
regardless of how it tastes.
its fingers constantly reaching out,
leaving a scorched trail everywhere it’s been.

here I sit, watching the fire
grow in size and height,
hoping that by some twist of fate,
it finds what it truly hungers for.
until then, nothing or no one will be able
to put it out.
I too have tired myself out,
opening the refrigerator,
like you will magically appear.