And what can one say,
When the whole world is new?
Too see simple colors,
Start to change their tune,
There's something about it,
It's different at night,
One can wait for the green-
Or could wish on the light.

Knowing that I will not know,
feeling what I should not feel,
hoping for a dream long gone,
grasping on to a phantom limb,
moving because it is obligatory,
happy out of force and protectiveness,
days drag because they choose,
tomorrow is another thing to loose.

It's true, what E.E. Cummings said. "Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense." And that is just it really. And I do not mean a friendly love; I am talking about when my heart is beating so fast that my whole being is shooting off some vibration, some frequency because of another human's effect on me. That feeling of complete willingness growing deep in the pit of my stomach to let this person crush me into dust. It is the electric shock through my body when they brush up against my skin for the first time and I savor that moment. The moment I get to touch the most precious surface my fingertips have ever come across. It is the seconds spent wondering if the other person feels the same and this mixture of anxiety and ecstasy swimming up and down and pulsing in spirals through my limbs into my soul. It is the moment that person clasps my hand for the first time and they look straight into my eyes and that person knows that I have died. The me that once existed has gone and now I have been released by this omnipotent touch, as if every small movement of their fingers create an ethereal melody that only gods could hear. It is that moment I no longer exist because the love for that other person has filled up my entire being; every atom, every pore, every cell, full of this apocalyptic passion. It is in that moment that I cannot take holding all of that love in, so my body begins to rip and tear at the seams, releasing an everlasting frenzy of fireworks that is my spirit. And it is in that moment when I feel nothing but adoration and gratitude for this other being. This other being that managed to slide right past me, existing all of this time without me knowing. It is in the realization of not knowing how I was even considered a human being before I met them and knowing I will never be the same because of them. It is in the realization that this person could go away at any moment leaving me crushed and still I find myself clinging to every second with them as if time was going extinct.
Loving someone is the sole reason we are alive. Most people think of love as just a single emotion, but it is so much more; it truly is. Love is a magnetic pull, so ancient and so instinctual and so deep in our subconscious that we cannot even recognize its true gleam. Love is time and every moment spent cherishing another being for exactly who they are, what they were and who they hope to be. Love is the disintegration of all individualistic, egotistical or selfish thoughts that have ever preoccupied my mind and the birth of compassion, respect, bliss, unity and the true beauty of imperfection. Love is the meeting of two individual souls to watch each and every proton, neutron and electron merge and form a whole new entity. The perfect whole; the golden ratio of two spirits combined, spiraling into infinity. Love transcends the eminent departure that awaits it because it unites the part of human beings that is eternal. It is the only thing that can bond what is immortal. Love pulls me in like a spinning funnel cloud only to project me above into the cosmos, where I can fully experience the true effects of love. I get the chance to actually feel another person's soul twirling its way up, around and through myself exposing who I truly am and the being I become once met with the one I love. It murders the fear that love could perhaps be mortal and sends light to our worlds revealing a hidden Utopia. Love is. How can you expect one single part of the universe to make sense without it?

I want to devour your thoughts,
I want to lick up your dreams,
I want to cradle the beat in your chest,
I want to take the strands of your hair on my pillow,
pull them tight,
And strum a lullaby,
one to go with your snores,
the bits of exhaustion that seep from you as you drift away,
But even though you are not here,
You are where my heart remains,
And I miss you in ways words could not even dream to explain,
but when I see you again,
When my eyes get to soak up the masterpiece that is you,
When they release drops of liquid passion full of emotions too strong to be named,
I will hold your hands in mine,
And I will flood your soul with the fire that is You and Me.

Awake at dawn,
the gray and gold,
spinning circles of haze.
The cardinals perched to see,
they wait.
I pull from my mind,
the thought of you,
the glance you give me,
the words you feed into me.
I draw you,
in the light I see you,
in the way no one ever will.
I go to the window,
the cardinals float to me,
they pull my view of you,
from my mind and from paper.
I know the birds in red,
will tell you how I wait,
for you.

Thursday,
I sit and wait.
I sit in a sea of people,
listening to songs,
twisted and deformed.
I sit and wait.
I pull my fingers to my palm.
I sit and wait.
I make quick glances,
I tap my foot against the wood.
I sit and wait.
The lights grow dim.
There you are,
I feel the warmth,
of just the sight of you.
I am and You are.

I simply just want to be able -
to sing sweet melodies of the morning dizziness,
to swell with the ocean into your grasp,
to wander and to trail your geography with the stars.
But why - why would I be given a time,
if it was only to be so short?
Why did I only get the small glimpse,
of the reason behind my soul's existence?
May the Sun, Moon and stars lull you back.
Subtle at first,
then as swift as the winter winds,
during the chilled autumn days.
May they light the path,
and make your heart glow with the burning fire,
of our longing to be in each other's reach.
And may you find me.

I dug under your fingertips for the glow,
Which way do you lean when the lights are out?
I told you once a story to make me grow,
My eyes sinking,
Buried in my coat,
I can mold you a story if you'll let me in,
Some rocks are smoother - but you skip just as well.

Porcelain tendencies,
to react,
to uncommon seismic waves.
Emotional,
transitional,
move to feel it,
lost inside again.
An obligatory day,
inclined to give you,
a gray,
flowered life,
No air with no mind.

The trials verbalized to form my truths,
But simply put, they stole my youth.
What is the point of the tale in my head?
The only truth is that I'd rather be dead.

They knew enough to understand.
But it was simply not their concern.
I did not,
understand,
my amount of love.
I did not,
expect,
their capacity of hate.

A golden shine promoting the existence of the nonexistent,
A simple call to the open air,
All heard from the dew covered stone was persistent,
Repeated, false, echoing with care.