His heart is what I love the most.
Flaming
Beautiful
Protected  
Behind locked doors, I found
An ever changing painting;
Always transforming with
Stunning colors sprinting across
The blank, white canvas of his making.
It will never be blank again
Because
The crimson of his love is too strong.
And
The violet of his daydreams is just too complex.
And
The deep blue of his sadness is simply too heavy.
But these colors
Along with so many others,
Are what make his his heart his, his alone.
What I love the most,
Is his vibrant heart.
No matter how many times
He attempts
To cover it in white.

I was not built to contain affection
Burning blue in my viens
Late night ambition of being the one you think of in the early morning glow
Chasing your sleeved arms through my dreams
Warm
Uninhibited by nausea or fear
Falling free under the influence of fragile beginnings liberated by a fearless tongue I was not built to contain affection
Churning ocean of my stomach and trembling hands
The waves crash I'm maybe three steps away from collapse as I careen into you
This captivation of you
The way you breathe etched in to the margins of my wrists
The wordless refrain hangs hollow in my head: EYE CONTACT CASUAL CONNECTION EXPOSE YOUR WRISTS
I'm lost in the wonder of it all
I was not built for this
I was built to capture and release the swell of this ocean
I was made to fit into the small of your hand rather than hide in my own
I was not built to contain the multitudes of moments I needed to cross the gap between your skin and my own
I was not built to contain affection

Real love is in the hazy curve of the earth lined in cities and streetlights
In men and monsters alike
In mountains and valleys real love finds you and forces its way into your lungs pushes out through your fingers and onto the page from your pen
Real love is in the depth of the action of feeling itself
Not in some petty lust or the need to be touched
The quiet yet resounding sentiment that if you don't find "the one"
Then you will be blindsided forever by the harsh hands of a thousand one night stands
You will be left empty in the kitchen sink
This I see and hear in the bodies all around me
And I've been ****** over as well as the next kid
Wide eyed and innocent young thing force fed brine and ****
I was in love with everyone and every thing that ever came near me
Blinded into submission in the ignorance of my youth
And I was taught that love was the feeling you felt when someone took you home or took you in
That love was an idea long lost in fairy tales and **** posts from your drunken ex at three am
And I got good at being let down time and time again by empty words or hushed sentiments spoken too hastely on the hardwood floor
I got good at learning to document a fleeting thought or moment just to try to keep some light in me so I didn't drown in the endless sea of my nights alone
And yeah the bottom of an empty bathtub became a second home but I have discovered that real love is as near as the grass under my feet
The cracks in the street the ice in my drink
There is a freedom and a weight in the weight of it all
so the feeling that they try to destroy when we're small finds a way
Through the pigment in our eyes to the countless times we are let down or let others down
The earth resounds that real love
Is in everything
And that you
Are apart of it all
And one day it's all gonna break

For a second I remembered your scent
And I retreated inwards once more.
You don't simply leave you linger.