Batshit crazy,
Batshit soup.
Am I just lazy,
or caught in a loop?

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
Razor blades,
Razor blades,
Razor blades,
****.

Love is not a competition.
Love is not a game.
You see me as a player,
and it's a downright shame.

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
I am totally lazy,
and caught in a loop-die-loop.

Glass houses and baseball games
Angels wings and tar
SEPTA lines and pine trees
Can take you pretty far

Love is not a competition
Love is not a war
and acting like a soldier
is really quite a chore!

Silly souls and wacky words
Dragonflies and tar
I want to make some art with you
but I don't know how you are

it's
Just another slide
down the razor blade
of life into a bowl
of sour owl ****

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
Am I crazy,
or am I caught
in a loop?
Razor blades
Razor blades
Razor blades
****.

A singularity is a point in a black hole of infinite density so that all matter and energy is crushed together so there is nothing between us


There is nothing between us
No skin
No flesh
No blood
No bone.

We are a transient dance etched into the membrane of being.
We are softly laced with the delicate threads of string theory.
We exist in dimensions you could hardly guess at.
We play in a place where there is no Yin or Yang;
Only pure Chi: indivisible.

And all the raging, raving beauty of the world declares
That love is not something you make or do, but
That love is who you are, and often
Oh, so very often
Love is letting go.
So,
No,

There is nothing between us
No skin
No Flesh
No blood
No bone.

I wish you could hold me tightly,
and constantly tell me you love me,
so I don't have to feel this insecure and uneasy,
about deserving you in my life.
you see,
its hard for me to believe in love,
to breath in what I've never ever received in my life before.
you make it harder for me,
when you don't remind me that your still here,
and that we're still okay,
its even harder now that we've become so consumed in our own day to day lifestyle,
that I've lost track of time,
of when last we shared a kiss goodbye,
or made passionate love,
how can I put my heart in a place that lacks the time to pick it up,
and sing to it melodies of love,
to give it the reassurance that everything is gonna be alright,
and by the blink of my eyes,
you won't make a disappearance act before I've said goodbye.

You are the captain of this vessel;
where you steer it, it will go.
You see, I have already fallen in love with you..
from the moment it launched from the slip.
And as all of everyone clearly knows,
the one who loves the least
controls the Relationship.

You control the sails and the winds,
you are the compass needle.
So sail me out to the open sea
with its salty ocean air.
And if you don’t care
to stay with me,
then simply leave me there.

I’ll find my way by beacon star
and drift towards the moon;
I’ll brace my soul for choppy seas
and weather every storm;
I’ll mourn you when you leave too soon,
and leave me so forlorn.

Let's talk about the letter x.
It's one of the weirdest letters we have in the English alphabet. It's a prized letter in the game of scrabble. It's a stumper for some kindergarteners who need to know that one word that starts with it to move up a grade. It's a symbol for a spot. Sometimes it's treasure, sometimes it's a target. Sometimes, it's a word. Sometimes it's a rating of a thrill or a cheap way to get off alone with some tissues. Sometimes it makes things extra small, and sometimes it makes them extra large. Or sometimes it's a way to describe someone.
Ex.
Like an ax to the wood we severed into thousand of splinters. I never thought I'd call you by that letter. I had a different future in mind. One with yellow green and white. One with your forehead pressed against mine as I pushed out creation. One with a chalk board wall full of poetry, lyrics, and sketches of light houses with suns rising in the background.
Now all I see is a big red x over all those dreams.
My treasure map is torn and burned and I can only see the target, but will never find the way to your heart again. My scrabble board is missing letters, and as I search for a way to forget them I keep putting down the letters to your name. I can't move on, like a child stuck behind their innocence and unable to comprehend what is next. I have to only imagine our bodies touching like those two thin lines on a paper. Intersecting like a comet to the atmosphere, colliding but burning up with terrible destruction.
My poetry doesn't have rhythm, and the rhyme has gone awry. All I keep seeing are ******* x's over every line I write. Because none of them put me and you and love together again.
The letter x is so strange. It's a weird thing we chose it to be a way to describe the end of something. One line going one way, the other a different way. But somewhere they meet and for the brief encounter there is hope that the lines will curve into love. But the lines have to move on, and so do we.

I remember the way his voice melted my heart like a paper plate melts in the microwave when u heat it for more than 6 seconds

I remember the way holding you at night was such a privilege because for those few fast moving moments I had the world and every star ever spoken into creation lying in the crease of my elbows

I once asked someone why love hurt so bad  his response was a cliche john green quote that sounded a little something like
"pain demands to be felt"
Which in my response sounded a little something like
"pain is a pain in the ***"
But it's quite true
What would love feel like without pain.

Perfect?
Because perfect seems to pleasing

I want the 3am fights about how you didn't kiss me sweet enough or the moments when I felt like loving you was too hard for me

You see you were the john to my green you were the fault in every star that the galaxy birthed because your flaws we're more beautiful than any constellation

Please don't forget the way my lips pressed gently to yours
And please don't forget that the same moon that You see at night is the same moon that I look up to praying God will save us .

And I hope it's some day soon