You stirred the ***.
Taking parts of you.
Parts of me.
The good, the bad.
Even the things that aren’t
So pretty to look at.
And poured them into
The pan.
It’s easy to forget about
The hurt until you come
Face to face with it.
Sour peaches aren’t the end
Of the world.
No matter how we layer it.
These are the things we’ve
Come to love about each other.
Even the hurt becomes mixed
In a sugar glaze with enough time.
No matter how bitter.
The brown of my skin
Mixed with yours.
A recipe that’s been done
And passed down before our time.
No matter how much of a mess
We think that things are,
No matter how bruised a peach
We accidentally pick up.
Nothing can replace the warmth
Of a cobbler.
Straight from the oven.
Soon we’ll both be fast asleep.
Your head rising and falling on my chest
With each breath I take.

Without worry I sit and wonder
When the next batch will come.
Dough rolled out, stretched and pulled,
Broken into pieces and stuck in the oven. Without the confines of an cookie cutter; natural in every way. An free form of emotional bliss laid flat on the pan.
I patiently wait, green plate on the table waiting for the oven to preheat.
The dough rises becoming smaller.
I only hope you understand
How lovely it is to be near someone you love.
Without the concealment of air tight bags they are free, the cookies that bake in the oven soon to be placed on a plate, devoured.
Introduced to the seduction of crumbs that come together; sweet, delightful
Before it fully hardens.
Soft, delightful.
Skinny dipping in an pool of cookie dough.
An illusion of things whole until broken apart by lips in full desire.
Drenched in saliva of deep need
Simultaneously becoming an memory
As well as a part of smiling lips.
The mistletoe that hangs above the heart.
Waiting for another batch made by your hands

When I walked in I didn't know what to expect.
Each room highlighted in light.
A oral tradition. To make ourselves at home upon request.
In reciprocation we do.
The rooms we gather in, the ones we walk past.
The objects we fill to take up space.
The rooms a clear reflection of Spring.
The molding painted white.
I was told that some rooms are not to be visited.
Everything has it's season and this isn't one of them.
Placing blame on the rooms.
I want to explore them most I said.
The ones that go unseen.
The things we rarely shine light to.
The places films of dust continue to grow.
These are some of the best places to go.
The beauty of things we walk past day to day.
The smile unknown destinations can bring.
Cultivating the ideas we keep cluttered.
Gasping for air.
These are the rooms I want to explore most.
The parts of you that you strictly keep to yourself.
Only when you are comfortable to share these rooms with me.
To kiss the floor with our feet.
To dwell in the past staring into our future.
We are the pendulums trapped inside the clock

In a sort of way I was like her pen.
Whenever she needed a place to vent I was there.
In the times when truth was hard to bare. The world a bit colder.
Is when she stained me with her hands. A place she felt most comfortable.
She'd wake out of a dead sleep, to tell me all of her dreams.
The things that kept her up at night. Her fears, her aspirations. 
She inspired me as well.
To give as much as I could.
Knowing her to be all I could depend.
Generous in the way I laid beneath her words.
I remained humble. Replacing my top with every syllable she spoke.
learning to speak in the times she didn't know which word felt best. 
Shutting the world out for moments longer.
In times I wasn't my best. She never minded the ink on her hands.
The moments that became hesitant. Large blotches of ink clogged in a moment of weakness.
The silence of a moment where silence spoke volume.
Closed pen top. The inadequacy of being used until nothing was left.

This was how I viewed the world until she opened me up.
Often times I'd dangle from her front pocket. Kept warm by her side.
Away from all the other things she'd carry in her bag.
In all honesty I loved every story she'd tell.
Shedding light on her perspective of life.

To leave the old me somewhere on a desk
I felt at home living and breathing, nestled between her fingers.
At neither time did we feel we'd run out of ink.
Scribbling her pain, her pleasure 
With my fingers.
And I, curled up in a blanket until the sun rose in her eyes

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

When asked, I replied I have a secret if your dying to know.
With enough anticipation I tore nail from wood.
A secret not so much, housed comfortably in a place that no one goes.
Some of the wood dry-rotted, nails now rust.
It still took some prying.
Uncovering a unhinged door in perfect dark.
Nails and wood covering the ground.
When asked what was in there I replied my heart.
Her eyes immediately searched the dark.
Still nothing could be found.
When asked again, I told her that if she looked in the mirror she'd see a clear reflection of it

It was there that she kept me in the top most part of her eye.
A small room with a mid size window. 
A wooden chair that sat on a circular brown rug.
She kept the curtain open. Closing them only at night.
She'd flick the light switch on.
Bringing about photo album after photo album.
Pieced together in perfect memory.
She'd often fall asleep in mid sentence.
Reminding herself of why she loved this room the most.
Surrounding herself in the light that peeped through the window.
It was here where she kept me among all of her favorite colors.
Sharing with me the way she saw the world.
Soon as the sun peeped through the window

Today is built on chance.
The ideal of a better tomorrow.
And still I love you.


Though every day can't be as perfect as the last.
It's made perfect for all the little things you do.
And still I love you.


The foundation of tomorrow begins with today.
And if blessed with longevity.
I'll still faithfully love you.


Although there will be times when I press your last button.
And other times when you can't stand the sight of me.
You should always be convinced, that I love you.

 
It's not because my heart doesn't have a brain.
Or the fact your face is so beautifully complexed.
In truth my heart shouldn't always need a reason to recognize it's
living, breathing representation.

 

Even if your mad a time or two.
Your still the reason life tastes so great.
And I'll still faithfully love you

It never seems the right time.
Watching night pursue the day.
That one light spread across a blanket.
That one rebellious soul that sees all but never says a word.
You shy away, but still I chase.
Wandering about until it gets dark enough to truly see you.
There I wait, knowing only persistence

Most people avoid her because of her heart.
One minute she is caring, the next she is overbearing.
The next she pours her heart the next she takes it all back and remains silent.
Too many mood swings, too many off brand medicines.
This was the reason that most people would avoid her.
Catching an aliment of her own,
The amount of hurt that she keep to herself without knowing how to release.
Finding various labels to print on her forehead.
Printing sticker on-top of sticker.
Marking her down for quick sale.
Some stickers faded. Others stuck from a different sales reel.
Manifests long forgot about.
Pushed back farther and further back on the shelf.
Negligence from those whom always marked that she was there without actually pulling her forward.
To ensure that she was alright, to knock the dust from her bottle.
To encourage her to move her to the front of the shelf.
She preferred to be alone for this same reason.
Most notably hid in the dark far from the edge of the shelf.
Out of sight out of mind, Content in her own little word.
Where no-one could poke or pry, to make her feel uncomfortable about being herself.
Her lid air tight when in reality all she wanted was to give herself.
Finding a fear of searching hands whom picked over and put others before her.
She'd sit at the back of the shelf where she was perfectly content until the day she could give all of herself.
Not realizing that she pushed those away that truly cared about her in the process.
The only prescription that could heal the sick and remove the ache of weary bones.
A weary heart, more than a handful of reckless thoughts.
She was a beautiful soul in a pharmacy full of sick physicians

And when ever I reach down everything is OK.
A jingle of my keys, pocket change.
And there you are.
I'd have a heart attack if I were to reach down and you weren't there.
I don't know what I'd do.
Back tracking every step. Doubling back every where I've been.
Pacing my breath in attempt not to panic
I know it's an unhealthy dependency but face it.
You are a part of my everyday walkabout.
Whether it's something that I need to know or randomly bored.
You always put a smile on my face.
Although some news I'd rather not know. You tell me in a way that I'll understand and I appreciate that.
Searching for a smile pure and humble.
A small print made large. Easier on the eyes.
You teach me things that I'd never think to look for.
Random searches that tie into the things I don't know that I need.
Me sitting in front of you face to face.
Our conversations spanning for hours at a time.
I know at times you need to recharge your batteries and I try to let you be.
But even when your sleep you don't mind waking up and keeping me company.
Even if it's just a second

In every moment, don't forget to smile.
Do pray to feel the first kiss of every breath.
And in each moment I'll return the favor.
Covering the picture of your face.
Frame to frame.
Our eyes the glass that protects each memory.
A sweet smile that becomes the entrance of life itself.
Ambitiously half lifted eyes crinkled around the corners.
In every moment, don't forget to smile
and I'll return the favor.
Life is too short to let these moments go in vain

And there I sat at the table without a thing to eat.
We often take the sweetest and most precious things life has to offer for granted.
The thought persisted.
Of all things I decided to bake a pie.
All things considered I brought apples, pie crust and a pan.
Each apple individually sliced and coated in brown sugar.
Each individual time I thought of her smile and how she's made me laugh.
The oven intensified.
Preheated by how delectable and sweet she really is.
Although cook books were there I put ultimate trust in my ability from memory.
The places we've been, the things we've shared.
All the perfect recipe of how precious life truly is.
Our taste buds craved more.
Crumb covered mouths yet to be wiped clean.
To further elevate all the sweet moments life has to offer.
Our bodies like crust that hold these precious moments.
Preserved with slice after slice.
Rather than give pieces of ourself to satisfy the moment.
We give wholeheartedly.
Now I am full.
Finding the meaning of life

I love sitting with you,
regardless of what's going on,
or where we are.
Nothing happens.
Everything is at peace.
No anxiety. No weight.
No rush
to be or to do.

Our eyes are free to rest,
our bodies free from tension.
Of all the things I could say,
all the invitations of where we could go,
when I sit with you,
time is irrelevant.
It doesn’t even come ankle high.
It too continues to walk past us,
probably hungry,
looking for something to do,
until we decide to do something
more than sit
and enjoy each other’s time.

The truth is in the way we breathe.
I can say that it’s nothing,
but a piece of me
finds its way into you.

Sometimes I feel that it isn't right,
How close we are but yet
So far apart.
There's not a day, a single
solemn minute that goes by
That you don't cross my mind.
I've taken every piece of you &
Hoarded it, for better or worse.
To the point I can barely recognize
which parts are me
& which are you.
These bright and colorful reminders.
I've taken it all.
In walking distance so far from where
we began.
I've taken it all,
& held it tight without question.
On the days I really wanted to see you,
You were numb.
for better or worse.
To the point I can barely recognize
which parts are me
& which are you.
You've stuffed me with long sharp pins,
pressing them deep
Without consideration to how it feels
or how I'd feel.
Not once have I said a word,
In walking distance so far from where
we began.
On the days I really wanted to see you,
which parts are me
& which are you.
There just isn't anymore room,
Those were your words to me

You remind me of the color pink.
This morning I saw you and ran away in thought.
I can't keep losing you.
I thought of putting you on my key chain.
Holding on to what's close.
I can't keep losing you.
I value your trust.
A piece of mind each time I look to the sky.
You disappear for hours, reappearing before you lay your head down to rest.
I indulge in thought.
Tucking you into a blanket of clouds.
You make your presence each time I see you.
The thought of putting you on my key chain becomes more enticing.
Just so I'll never lose you.
But God is fair.
Allowing me to see your face before you disappear once more.
You are love.
Painting the perfect picture before you lay your head down to sleep

You handed over the pieces
of your life without hesitation
your breath, your time,
your love,
because that’s what you thought love was.
Not once did you think to keep
anything for yourself.
You reached in and revealed
these pieces of yourself over time,
wrapping them in your skin,
your time, your love.

I didn’t need all the pieces
that you gave me
those you gave because you thought it was love.
I won’t let you do it.
I cannot.
Regardless of how much you give,
if I am hungry, I will not take
without replenishing what is given.
If I am thirsty, I will not bathe
in what is excess.

I, too, will hand over the pieces
of my life,
because, as hard as it is to accept,
the truth is we do not truly own anything.
just enough to feel the space
where the years seem to fly by.
Something that connects us both.
You handed over the pieces
of your life,
and I promise to care for and love them,
because I believe it’s something you just do.
Just as I believe in welcoming you
to live and breathe in the pieces of my life.
I too will live, breathe, and drown
in you

When love arrives,
It arrives only to leave again.
Coming back to another again.
Another time,
Another arrival.
The same streets once laughed and grinned in.
When love arrives,
It arrives as that familiar face
Strolling down the street without a care in the world.
A personality in the wind mutual to which steps to take.

When love arrives,
It arrives with a certain taste.
The first slice of readily made pizza.
Made hot, fresh.
Pepperonis covered in cheese.
Knowing it's favorite place, love.
It's soon to leave until the urge returns.

The pizzeria tucked in the corner.
The pizzeria no one knows about.
The pizzeria that can be found in each and every city.

When love arrives no matter how many times it leaves.
No matter how good the taste,
It is never really gone

I found a rainbow
In the middle of the night.
Stripes of color that look like it burst through the sky.
It cut through the clouds and took over the buildings.
There’s something different about the night.
At times, everything can seem dead.
But it has its pieces of heaven.
Indigo, blue, red, yellow, and purple.
All dressed bright, Standing on the corner,
Like everyone else that wasn’t asleep.
I suppose that it needed a place to hang out too.

The bend wasn’t as curved as the one you’ll see
Through the day.
It was relaxed and positioned in the sky,
in the way I supposed you would press your back
against the wall.
Then, just like that, It was gone.
Like a pretty woman with somewhere to go

I love your light
The way it leads past eternal dark.
I really believe that this is the universe,
Expanding in front of me.
The best feeling staring right at me.
How beautiful, just to exist.
To not rush a thing.
Being known, a limitless possibility
Venturing past the impossible.
A type of love discovered after eclipse.
The way you sparkle, orbiting the entire world.
A world comprised entirely of you.
The region's shift, broken up in cosmic shift.
& I
Forever lost
In the scatter of shooting stars,
Beneath tectonic plates.
Your heart, your soul, the universe

And I thought for a moment.
With all the anxiety that goes on in the world.
Lay with me for a moment so that we'll both know all that ills.
The insecurities we dress ourselves with that reveal only what we want to show.
Soon remembered when were all alone.
For what you truly define as a moment without rush.
Fill a void that isn't easily removed without first knowing a strangers name.
That ensues unanswered phones and a loss track of time.
The beginning of fear, the turmoil of new habit.
Step into the unknown.
Meaning total comfort in your own skin without a means of being judged.
A spontaneous eruption of minutes that burst into hours, oozed into the rhyme of songs played on repeat
Until we forget entirely what it was that we were planning on doing next.
And I thought for a moment.
This is complete and utterly insane.
Moving from the bed to the floor.
Finding what's been on the edge of our fingertips this whole time

Take the scissors,  
And cut around the edges of my heart.  
Don't worry about how it looks.  
Fold whatever part of me  
That you need to make the first cut.  
I'd be surprised if you find any part  
Of me that's folded neat.  
The kaleidoscope of construction  
Paper that is me.  
  
I consider myself a collection  
Of scars and different colors—  
Of the things that I like and dislike.  
Even the wrinkled pieces of myself  
I've forgotten about.  
You've brought light to those pieces  
With each snip of your scissors.  
I've noticed how quiet and content  
You've become.  
  
You cut, and I bleed in color—  
Purple, blue, and yellow.  
Of all the shapes you've cut,  
None of them are painful.  
Watching you mix up the different color pieces of my soul,  
Your love, the stick glue that  
Gives these pieces more functionality.  
  
I breathe easier, knowing that you're here.
No longer restricted  
By stagnant stillness.  
You can even fold them into an  
Airplane and sail across the room.  
I haven’t had this much fun  
In a long time.
Don't forget the scrap pieces

She was a mystery.
She gave me her heart to understand the type of music she listened to.
Her playlist was filled with trap beats before it became fashionable.
The rattling of empty trunks.
The rattling of sticker covered tags.
This is how I saw myself before she gave me a pair of headphones. I asked her for more.
Not liking the way track six ended.
Track 7 and 8 captivated my heart.
Keeping it all to myself.
She fooled me.
Her playlist composed of the same beat over and over.
9 tracks with something added.
Another taken away.
Overtime it would become all that I listened to.
Her influence over two rocks shaken in a can.
My heart.
Beginning to nod my head and cut the volume to the max.
I played it at work. I listened to it in the car.
A natural disaster to those that I passed.
The rattling of my trunk almost non-existent.
A more crisp sound coming from the speakers.
It was Summer.
Before I heard her playlist in the hands of someone else.
She placed her heart inside of the music knowing I'd stumble across it first.
Unsure if I'd ever find her love.
To participate in the aggression of her love.
The originality of all that she was.
I listened in silence with the headphones she gave.
To be surrounded by everything I love all at once

This is true, the stand point from which I see you.
This sense of comfort given with each smile spread cross your lips.
Things most find trivial, I find worthwhile through my eyes.
To what response can I give to assure that we were made in each others image.
Developing further into thought of self.
Myself liberated in the reflection of your eyes.
Myself detached, lost in the thought of you.
This ritual that begins with each word spoke from your lips.
Simple yet complicated as one thought splits into many.
Kind of religious in a way.
This devotional praise broken down from one day to the next.
I've kneeled to find you near,
This sense of pleasant dreams.
Following this comprehension, attempting to identify this experience.
There aren't any mistakes, at least none that I can see.
This balance of hands pressed together
Planting seeds of longevity with you in mind.
My state of mind begins and ends with the thought of you.

At the table sat a prawn, a fish, a glass of water, and a watch.
All trying to figure out who had the best hand.
Two out of three games already played.
Tension drawn on all of their faces.
The fish twitches at the river, caught in thought eying the glass of water.
The prawn in constant panic. Eying the fish.
Stuck in the same predicament as the fish. Winning a much larger *** the last hand played.
The fish much larger than he. The prawn folded his hand.
The glass of water over-thinking the endless possibilities of both the prawn and the fish.
Sweat dripping down the side.
The watch on the other hand, had the best poker face of them all.
As time reveals everyones true intentions.
Revealing a slew of faces

She was a porcelain figurine.
Fitted with big bright angel wings.
The arches of her heel lifted high.
The weight of emotions carried tall upon her back.
In mid flight she collapsed and broke a piece of her side.
Heart broken she feared that no one would look at her the same.
Once held high, looked to, to spread a ease of mind.
The burden of others piled high upon her back.
Not once did she notice the weight of her own.
Heartbroken she tried her best to hide her ceramic scar.
Afraid of what everyone would think.
A stone tear suddenly etched beneath her eye.
She tried her best to put the pieces back together, but no matter how she arranged them they just wouldn't fit.
Her wings now a dull off white, Her arch not as high as it once was.
She hid herself where no one would ever think to look.
Over by the street in the gutter where most leaves collected themselves.
It wasn't until she met a sad clown wearing torn clothes.
A dusty old hat. Sitting along the sidewalk of where she hid herself.
A blue tear painted on his upper cheek.
Soon as he saw the porcelain figurine he fell in love.
Collecting her broken pieces along with her hand. He loved her just the way she was.
The definition of her tear changed. Never before has she experienced such kindness from hands that asked for nothing in return.
Knowing only to give never once did she take the time to receive.
She looked astonished as he brushed the dirt from her wings.
Discarding her broken pieces in his pocket, replacing them with a piece of him

Beside the porch of broken dreams
She invited me to her dreams.
When I asked whether or not
which door to walk through.
That's when she cut the lights off
& everything got dark
Beside the porch of broken dreams.
I too, sit
without so much as a light
to keep me company

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.

I've dreamed of you
Eyes dressed in desire.
Above your head a halo.
Metallic and bronze.
Uniquely dressed.
A pair of wings from your back.
When I dream of you,
I dream standing up.
The sun envious of the warmth your cheek provides
The side of my face against yours.
Together we sore.
We sore through this vision where I have no fear of falling.
Knowing that if I should fall
You'd catch me before I hit the ground.
Your voice soft
Comforting me through the heights we ascend.
Our hands but a kiss away from heaven.
I've dreamed of you
Eyes dressed in desire.
With wings in mid flight
Our hands in one another.
You lift my spirits with the simplest of smiles.
Followed by the blessing of your presence

I loved, though not mine
That invisible notion that creates substance.
Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching

This love seemed theatrical
Standing still; Watching
The persona of something we knew not where we belonged
Searching

Perhaps I was lost. Standing there; Watching
To hear another speak
To watch as a pedestrian on the street

To pretend to be the smile that crossed her face
That industrial glow that colored her cheek
Tattooed sidewalks

The fast paced nature given; metropolis
Just seen walking around
Cars burrow deep into traffic; Watching

The capacity of taking delight in something so simple; Watching
Fickle
The grim street corner over by the third traffic light

Perhaps we stumble
Learning to walk; standing still
The clouds sympathetic in nature
Blurred the allure of the sun

I loved, though not mine
This notion becoming witness; Watching
This momentum walking fast pace; Watching

Slender shoulders cast angular shadows
Advancing up the grim street; Watching
Following the curve of concrete ladders

I loved, though not mine
The presence of strangers; Watching
A community of thought
Civilized in public

An unseen riot that wreaks carnage; walking
Her stare
That industrial glow
An invisible notion

Saw as a pedestrian crossing the street; Watching
Loitering
Stepping out into traffic
Getting hit by a parked car

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

Happiness consists of effort.
It doesn't have to be perfect to be a token of appreciation.
Steadily available to be itself.
No matter how weird or silly things can get.
During these times we are tested with the vanity of our self.
Finding it much easier to walk away from a simple misconception.
It is important not to get caught up in the reflection we see.
For then we become unappreciative of the blessings around us.
Not recognizing ourself in the same image we perceive as happiness.
With a single view that things are only as bad as we allow.
Not realizing the depth of which when and how we fall.
Confusing the physical with a mental permission that effort alone is not enough.
In a combined effort of feeling whole.
The perception of how we see the ones we love becomes their world as well as our world entirely
And their expression alone is priceless

Through many misadventures.
It's you I seek.
Climbing the many stairs that lead me to my goal.
It's never enough.
Through the laterals of vault jumps.
Through the brick and mortar of red paths.
I still see them when I close my eyes.
No matter how terrified I am.
I still make that jump for you.
Finding all the traces you've been.
The worn soles of the many miles I've traveled.
My self put to the side.
 I find the many seeds that we've planted.
Once beautiful, now overgrown to the point that they no longer fit in regular pots.
Without you there's no reason to toil around anymore.
The ghosts of who we use to be wait behind every corner.
Confronting me everytime I turn my back.
Still it's you that I seek.
Finding my own personal hell.
Fire breathing dragon included.
I've tried to hide myself behind my work to no avail.
It follows me everywhere I go.
The inter-workings of my mind.
I've found myself hanging on a string.
Time after time.
Bridges that I've crossed getting from point A to B.
The growth that's essential to make it to the next stage.
The sound of coins no longer entices.
Facing my fears in the hope of reaching you again.
Finding a better me.
The final ax to the head of the fire breathing dragon that guards you closely.
In the end to find that this closet I keep my fears.
Has turned to another castle.
With another dragon.

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

The touch of lips- brief and soft.
There was no more grief.
This evening forever lost in memory.
Through the ripples of untroubled water, we sat.
The waves rolled closer.
Together we crashed by the pull of the tide.
Anxiously losing track of time.
The wave- thick, unforgiving.
Retraced its step.
And I forever lost.
Forever inhaling it's essence.
Forever remembering that night with closed eyes.

Last night I stayed up counting every time that I've wished for you.
Then I came to my senses that there wasn't a need to wish anymore.
Then I came to the realization that I inhale you with each thought.
That I've come to trust the hours I spend talking to you about any and everything.
Finding your smile in perfect company.
Allowing myself to be the circumstance that makes your cheeks rise the most.
In vivid imagination. Seeing you before I close my eyes.
Truth is last night I stayed up making countless wishes to reassure that what I wished for the most stayed in the countless hours that we spend talking to each other.
The adventures we take traveling through each other's mind.
Finding it much easier to breathe with each mile we hike.
Even if I have to hold my breath until my face turns blue.
Thank you for giving me the breath of you, I appreciate each and every moment that you do.
And I promise not to exhale until the next breath is presented

She kissed with an intelligence that could enlighten the brightest of scholars.
The pages her tongue turns.
Her love came natural.
The woe's of being taught to fear.
She guarded her love with the careful fold indented on her cheek.
Her favorite author reveals that most pain happens where light cannot reach.
Instead she picks and chooses where to place her bookmark.
Forgetting to surrender the knowledge she bestows naturally.
Loving her is like taking a bite of an apple.
Not knowing which side to bite.
The circumstance of not wanting to spoil the best part.
The core of her smarts folded between the cover of lips.
The propaganda of where air becomes breath.
She kissed with braille skin and blind eyes.
Relying on instinct alone.
Her heart alone scribing the words of the next chapter she places her bookmark.

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

Regret melts slow,
dripping from the side.
It feels like skin being tugged against,
the impression left from
my hand to yours.
The anticipation of being patient
burns and flickers,
excitedly proud to be included.

Your back, the wick that stands straight,
slowly curving,
stretching, releasing tension.
Your legs wrapped in mine.
If you were to blow too hard,
the flame would whoosh,
leaving nothing but a puddle.
The people we were
staring, looking at the mess.

The rest of my strength
supports your arch,
the curled wick that's grown tired
against my chest.
No matter how you lay,
I am comfortable in your wild stretch.
Sleep surrounding both of us—
I have your back, your heart.
The crisp edges of your hair tangled
On my head

The smoke of desire soots and breathes,
dried in a puddle of wax

Soon as I saw you
I began to follow.
Without regard of home,
regardless of how many steps
it took to keep up.
I can't exactly describe what it was.
It just felt natural,
to follow you.
My legs moving twice as fast
This need to fall in love in the palm of your hand.
I felt a sense of need.
An overwhelming sense to bump into your leg until you noticed
This piece of me that felt something was missing.
To follow your every command, be accepted as I am.
For now I am enjoying this stroll.
This trot hoping you'll notice everything I see when I look at you.
What ever you ask of me
My life made whole in a glimpse.
I don't know exactly what it was that made me follow you,
But I am glad I did.
Until I am old and gray.
I will always follow you

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

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

In a short whisper.
A shy hurricane drifts.
It swirls, rain cascading down.
It sees you, longing for your embrace.
Delicate.
A storm brews inside.
Looking for a way to get out.
Do you feel it.
The gust of its heart quickens,
tenfold.
Longing to dissipate and cover you
whole.
In a short whisper.
The skies darken.
Everything comes to a hush.
Its fears no longer wrapped tight.
A shy hurricane in search of love.
Knows nothing.
But to rage

I press the buttons in a frenzy,
Lost in the glow of the TV screen.
The controller sweaty in my hand.
I tap away, making my way
Back to you.

To be honest, I didn't think
I'd like this game.
But now, I am hooked.
As dope as this game is,
It cheats.

You're a cheater! But I love it.
I don't need a tutorial,
and refuse to play through it.
I will make it back to you,
And beat you!

You, standing there with your ****
Avatar.
A quick reset, and I respawn,
Ready to get you!
Soon as the loading screen finishes
Loading. The only thing keeping me away from you, is how you cheat.
My avatar respawns,
Halfway through the level,
And there you are,
Waiting,
Like you have something better to do.
I will not rage quit!
I will beat this stage!
No one taught me how to play,
But once I win,
I'll have something to hold
over your head.
Even better
I didn't cheat to get your heart

A cloud floats by.
She smiles a rainbow.
Tearing the wrap off a red paper bag.
She closes her eyes.
Tight as they'll squeeze.
Tasting her fantasy from hand to mouth.
Who knew a rainbow could taste so good.
The flavor of each color melting in her mouth.
She's in love.
Standing on top the rainbow.
Swishing around a kaleidoscope of flavor.
She's lost in the taste.
Her mind is at ease.
Until the next time her crush passes with ease.

The rain falls,
pounding into my chest.
After a while, it becomes wet.
It beats and throbs
between the drops.

The lightning cracks
and leaves its streak
a reminder of what it feels
like to love.

Trying to keep pace
with the water that keeps running,
swelling up without a drain.
There’s no escape
just wet skin,
bottled from the inside out.

The rain becomes everything
that it touches.
A storm,
drowning out all the noise around.
While the rain pours,
all I see is your silhouette
a wet slap to the veins
that swells and grows.

Thunder rumbles in the distance

Clouds form and fill the sky
Everything turns gray.
Still, there is no you.
You don't say sorry.
You don't say anything.

I walk outside,
Expecting to see you
At the very least, hear you
Rumble closer.

The sky is just as stubborn,
Refusing to move.
Here I am, outside
Head tilted back,
Mouth open, waiting for you.

Picturing your voice
Rumbling in the distance.
You don't say that you're sorry.
The rain still hasn't come

We're but two drunks laughing in the rain. Memphis is a city like any other.
The rain falls and slinks into the potholes. Whatever secrets that are hidden surface and shine with every drop that falls.

What's the fun of staying dry? The rain mixed with the sweat of our skin.
When you kiss me, I feel the beads of rain fall harder, my heart a puddle that catches every drop, caught in wet embrace. We may be drunk, me more so than you. Even if lightning slices through the clouds, and the rain begins to come down even harder.

What's the fun of staying dry? Every street leads somewhere, even if the sky tears itself open and the world becomes a blur. I am a drunk fool, laughing outside in the rain with you

You are thick in size
Curling around my fork
String by string.
You anchor my stomach
& kiss my lips in a slurp.
You never have to worry about
The intrusion
Curving my appetite with your
Delicious coil.
You curl yourself in front of me
And invite me to come back for more.
Fork after fork
You unravel your flavor &
Pack them in my mouth.
You're the first thing on my mind
And bowl
Tasting you before you come to a boil.
You're my noodle
Perfectly seasoned and anchored
To my soul.
The broth the last kiss
From me to you
Until the next bowl

I'm in love
That young black love.
That attention with no pressure.
Straight shot no chaser
That love at first sip.
Taking a cruise in the middle of the night.
The bass turned to the max.
Thinking the same thing
Heading nowhere in particular.
The first time hearing a **** *** song
Comparing it to you.
That young love matured to something grown
Something ****.
Stopped by a red light
Waiting for it to turn green.
Spending the night
Not wanting to see you go
Incense rolling papers and pandora