I've always asked myself
'How can you love someone you've never met?'
You've never seen their smile in person
Never heard their beautiful laugh
Never felt their warm touch
And with these thoughts,
I realized one thing
I am that person
I'm in  love someone I've never met
He'll never how happy he makes me
Or how much he means to me
My friends think I'm crazy
And they question me about it
But to be honest I don't have an answer myself
It's weird
And strange
And incredibly sad
That ill never be able to touch you
To kiss you
To hug you
To tell you how much I love you
In person

It makes me feel foolish
And upset
And sad

But what really confuses me
Is the fact that the only thing which makes me less sad,
Is your smile.

I kept pretending
That I couldn't remember your name
So determined that you weren't
Worth the time of day
I guess it's a reflection
Of my own sorry self
Such pretentious invention
Of isolation's hell

I wasn't the type
to write everyday,
or to get inspired easily.
but I was the type to fall
inlove each day.

Not necessarily with people,

but with the most simple &
common things. The
Smile of a stranger reminded
me that the hearts of man
were still kind.

The warmth of the sun, on my face
Each day, quietly whispered
that things will be okay

and finally, the shapes the
clouds took on an overcast day
insisted that there was
beauty in sadness, in solitude.

I honestly believe that I'll die
In awe of this unappreciated
world and that breaks my
Heart

Her body is her journal,
Her body is her life,
Her body is her monument to misery and strife.

She writes about the memories,
She writes about the pain,
She writes about the loneliness and tears that fall like rain.

Her ink holds all the secrets,
Her ink holds all the lies,
Her ink holds all the truth she knows when all that she loves dies.