I saw them;
All looking like
Angels.
They moved with the
Wind
And their garments
Danced lightly
Upon invisible waves.
They all smelt alike:
They all smelt like
Crushed roses.
The fear of joy
Stained their eyes
And scarred their souls.
They had been happy
Too much in the past.
Marks of smiles
And laughter
Have turned into
Something
In between.
They all sounded alike:
They all sounded:
Dead.

I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.

She looked beautiful. 
She looked prettier 
Than the stars,
And the wind gentle
In her wake. 
A peek,
And I was Wordnapped.
...................   .....................
She looked beautiful; but
She was not beautiful.

putting perfume on before bed,
dancing in my daydreams without my muscles being sore
because there, I actually have the motivation to stay stretched.
>sometimes it feels like i'm ******* with my destiny,
as if i knew what i was supposed to do,
and it wasn't exactly this.

this little number
is for your sake
cause if you know
just how I feel
I won't have to fake
make no mistake
this is the quake
inside us both
if you hold me near
you can feel it too
you take away my blue
make me feel alive
anyways,
I think I love you