Someday,
when you'll ask me
"how much do you love me?",
In answer, I will not spread my arms wide.

I will rather wrap them around you
tight,
and will never let you go.

I long for those nights in which I absentmindedly fall asleep while praying.  Talking to god like hes my bestfriend.

I have a poets soul,
I am willing to bleed my heart out
Onto blank paper
But the prospect
Of speaking my mind
Leaves me shaking.

This soul
Is thousands of years old,
I have lived a lifetime after lifetime
And have died a hundred times over
Yet the thought of the grave
Shakes me, inside and out.