we're traveling
this astral belt,
floating on this
makeshift rock
surrounded by the
vastness of galaxies
and cosmos--

why does it matter
if your job *****
sometimes?

feast your eyes
on the skies
and choose to be
above it--

but darling,

                  in the end
                  you’ve got to be
                  your own hero,

                  because everybody’s
                  busy
                  trying to save


                                *t h e m s e l v e s

I traded in my bad habit for another.
Ciggerates between my lips, instead of forks & food. Either way, it still burns.

God take my breath away, it's been a while since your words graced my lips.

Take me back to being a young girl,
When dancing down the streets of Jerusalem was an every Monday morning thing.

Take me back to your wonder of the world.

my ideal lover...
values the power of words
see's the hidden meanings
in my writings
becomes the flaunting beauty
in my writings
& becomes my enigma muse

my ideal lover...
can savour all the sweet nothings
i whisper through their lips
without getting a toothache
and with every move they make
with every stride they take
it has so much grace
it brings a tear to your face

you could write an endless song
of their endless beauty
of their every action
woven with pure intent
of their every thought
laced in innocence

my ideal lover...
will let me love them out loud
let's me be bashful and proud
let's me scream love sonnets
off roof tops
or whisper it
in coffee shops
they'll never get bored
of the words I bleed
because it's what their eyes
were made to see
it's what their heart
has craved to read
it's what there soul
was born to be