From stars we are born.
Atoms burning within us.
Traceable back to before
time began. It connects us
to those we never will meet,
stretching across galaxies
and piercing back through our skin.
As we are part of this universe
so it is part of us, making us larger
than most can accept or truly feel.
Breathe in your importance, and
contemplate the universe. As it
is nothing more than the atoms
inside of you.

Iridescent bubbles pop,
an explosion of shimmer in
sunlit soap drops.

Magic wands in blinding
colors give life to miracle
sphere-shaped fairies. Meant
only to exist for brief
moments, disappearing at
the fingers of
earth-bound angels.

Tiny imprints dot the
shoots of green, that carpet
my angel’s feet from harm.
Leaving in return medals of valor,
earthy marks of bravery
from her romp through
tiny forest worlds.

Golden rays say goodbye
as they sink softly down to rest.
She lets her weighted eyelids close,
Whispering a melody so divine
it could only come from her mouth.

My lips touch her porcelain cheek,
Fingers dancing on her moonlit hair.
To kiss an angel, my angel,
this is what I live for.

You look at the world through empty orbs,
ignoring the beauty that swells within.
Your lips work like anesthesia,
numbing your words till they have no meaning.
Sometimes I have to wonder, who you really are.
If I’d knock on you, and hear an echo,
sound bouncing off skin walls.

I want to reach down your throat and strike a match.
Ignite a fire in your gray soul. 
Fill you up with fiery flickering hues.
A passion that forces you into motion.
Awakening your mind, realizing your truth.
A yearning for life beyond just living.

It never stops hurting.
That hole he left.
Everyone says it takes time..
..that I’ll feel better eventually.
But I won’t.

It never stops hurting.
That ache in my chest.
There’s a feeling like so much was left unsaid.
But in reality, it still would have happened.
He stopped loving me.

How do you move on?
From the person you can’t, or don’t want to, live without.
How do you move on?
When all you want to do is go back in time.

It never stops hurting.
Don’t believe the well-meant lies.
There won’t be another special someone.
Not when all you see in others,
Are reflections of him

It never stops hurting.
And he’s in everything you see.
He’s in every thought, every memory, every song.
You want to feel whole,
but you never will.

How do you move on?
When all you want is his kiss again.
How do you move on?
When you can still imagine his ring on your finger.

It never stops hurting.
When you lose your other half.
And eventually you decide to just wait.
Hope he comes back.
Because you’re that pathetic.

It never stops hurting.
No matter how many pills you pop.
No matter how many calories you drop.
No matter how many scars you carve.
It never stops hurting.

So why bother trying to get better,
when it never stops?

Lost in a dream of endless beauty,
my body disappears in the tall soft grass.
It tickles my skin as it blows in the breeze.
My hair billows out like a red wild flower.

I am part of this place.
I belong here.
This field is mine.

Above me the sky stretches on without stop.
Dotted with puffy cartoon like clouds.
The sun bathes my skin with warm kisses,
setting my hazel-green eyes ablaze.

Everything breathes innocence.
A new beginning is in the air.
I try to soak up the feeling.

Underneath my back the earth shakes with life.
I can feel the snakes writhe, the rabbits hop. I can
feel the bug world teeming with activity. I can feel
new shoots of grass breaking through gound.

My body may leave this heaven,
but I never will.
I will rest forever here.

Most days,
you are all I want.

Your heartbeat next to mine,
feet kicking inside me. The first
moves you'll ever make. Just
for me. Just between us.
Most days.

Some days,
I make myself sick.

The sight of my stomach, so
flat and empty. My womb so cold
and dark without you there. The pain
is so real it forces me to my knees.
Some days.

Most days,
I dream about your life.

The colors I'd paint your room.
The music I'd play, the kind that's
supposed to make you smarter. The
stuffed animals that would clutter about.
Most days.

Rare days,
I hate you.

For teasing me with a chance
of life. For pushing away the man
I loved. As if any of it is your fault.
As if you chose to die before living.
Rare days.

Every day,
I think about you.

Endlessly.
Painfully.
Joyfully.
Lovingly.
Every day.

Non stop,
I love you

No matter
what happens,
this love will
never end.

Let’s take everything we have,
and build a bridge up to the moon.
From parked cars to table tops,
apple cores and spoons.
The broken toys under our beds
can be the very base.
Our weathered dreams from child hood,
will hold it all in place.

We’ll race for broken window panes,
and empty trash can bins.
For boxes once used as forts,
and endless bobby pins.
Shampoo bottles tossed aside
will make such lovely rungs.
Bubbles dripping out their sides
smell of summer and bubblegum.

We must hurry before they all catch on,
and yell for us to stop.
They’re fearing broken bones,
that we won’t survive the drop.
But still we climb like furry ones,
monkeys in disguise.
Jumping up from bar to bar,
higher in the sky.

Quick! Reach for the balloons
we let go of much too soon.
Tie them to sides of our new
pathway to the moon.
Make it look like a carnival!
Make everyone come and see!
Our dreams have gone far past their reach.
We’re actually doing this, you and me.

And in this day we’ll accomplish more than they ever have.
Because today we took our dreams, and ran with them hand in hand.