When I'm with you !
My heart wanders in an endless horizon
Dancing between the clouds
Smiling  with the colorful butterflies ...

Your tears glow in the deepest worlds
Of your astonishing glitter mysterious eyes ...
Pouring piles of inspiration on your blushed cheeks ...
Your eyelashes reveal such a  harmonically merry symphony ...

Such a luster and radiance spread all over my heart
Once my eyes meet yours and staring in rhyme ...
Your sights create such a fascinating art
Overwhelming me with your love and slender kindness ...

Your love is a special aromatic fragrance
A fascinating scent
Spreading all over my heart's secret gardens
Reveals a special feeling
Knocks the keenest gleam of your honest sincere innocent heart ...

So grateful is my current state ,
Finding such an ideal soul mate ...

I am too angry to write
My words will burn through the paper
Tear it to shreds
Smoldering anger
Burst into flame
Will destroy
Whatever I write
I am so angry that it feels like
Bleeding
Pouring out from deep within

I have this horrible feeling
Deep inside my
Stomach
That without me
You might do something
Drastic
And without you
I'm feeling
Like I may do the
Same

Because you're my
Bestest friend
In the entire
World
And I'm so sorry
That I moved
To another stupid state
Just 3 hours
Away from you

Because it's so hard
For me
To see you like this
And I feel like
It's all my fault
Because I left
When I feel like
Without you
I may attempt
To be gone
Forever.

-e.w.

Every single time I think of you
it is never directly of you.

It always is the red potatoes
sprinkled with rosemary.

It is lit cigarettes on fire escapes.

it is record players,
and scrabble matches.

It is the look on the cab driver's face
as I forced you in his cab
when you got too drunk
on the fourth of july.

It is the ride back home,
over the Brooklyn Bridge.

It is Fireworks exploding
into chandeliers of light,
in the distance,
as you're passed out,
and I'm crying
because I miss my mother.

I'll get drunk on your love
I'll drink all your pain

When you're unhappy
I'll take it away
When you feel lonely
I'll be by your side

I adore you, My Love
I need you, My Love
I am here for you, My Love

His hands,
His hands,
He didn't have the right hands.

They weren't shaped right,
They weren't the right size,
They didn't feel right pressed against my body.
His hands didn't cup my ******* with love.
They didn't look like those of a strong man.

I've dreamed of these hands since I was young,
And I don't know why.
I haven't been able to find the right ones.

The right touch,
The right grasp,
The right hands.

I can see the veins,
Pressing against the surface of his skin.
The small lines sprawled across his palms.
His fingers a certain length,
His knuckles a certain size.
His hands,
The right ones.

Man of my dreams,
Only in my dreams,
His hands in my heart,
His hands the right hands.

There is a tear in my existence,
the gap between two milk teeth
breaking away from wide-mouthed childlike innocence
and falling out,
lost to ice cream cones and garden fences
teen dream dancing and cool pretenses
ignorant bliss, aimless goals
and the taste of near-empty Jack Daniels bottles
seems wiped from me
like a milk moustache.

Adulthood, what are you but a mistress who is cruel to be kind
curling and winding around me until I choke in your perfectly proper pencil skirt?
What are you but a greater knowledge of the world and a lesser understanding of it?
What are you but a greater understanding of the self and a lesser affinity with it?

Adulthood, what are you but broken dreams and disappointment?
What are you but bigger dreams with arms that reach beyond death itself?
What do you bring except shrivelled skin and nostalgia for once upon a times?
What but wisdom and a sense of sanguine satisfaction?
What are you but blood and cells and bells and *** and terrific notions and consequences and deckchairs and chinaware and despair?

Adulthood, what are you but glazed-over wasted days and self-loathing?
What are you but three hundred responsibilities taken care of all at once, caffeine eyes and welling pride?
What are you but the inevitable crash and getting smashed and suddenly remembering why I should do things one at a time?

What are you but change upon change upon change upon mistakes made again for the millionth time?
And my changes, now lifeless
cause an identity crisis
about whether I'm really any different in the end
the likes of which will no doubt be seen again
when Monday rolls around,
what are you but Mondays, endless Mondays
driving me into the ground?

Oh Adulthood,
what are you but a downsize of naivity, a self-belief redundancy, a vitamin D deficiency and a proper place for everything apart from me?
What are you but desperate faces smashing into one another, drowning lungs, curtains pulled down, curtains put up, curtains being suddenly important? Curtains ******* me up?
What are you but woodsmoke and patios, warm faces, good graces and the ceaselessly mounting cost of Freddos, buildings and building things and falling in love...

And falling in love, falling asleep, falling awake, falling apart, falling together, falling
falling
falling
down.

What are you, Adulthood, but always always getting back up again no matter what, and alarms and reminders and no bed times
but being so tired you start to admire
that even the sun must sleep sometimes,
even if it always comes back up, shining even brighter
until the timing is right until the living is right until the mind is right only then can we stop trying
only then can we die
no wonder the afterlife is idealised
and even then, will I see the light?
Can I stop now?
Is it really alright?

What are you Adulthood, but a long list of questions?
Because I have so much to ask, you see, but mostly

What are you here for, except to show me how good I had it before?

Adulthood, I don't know.