I lay here tonight typing.
I wonder about those who don't have the advantage to type.
I pray for those who didn't have a dinner tonight.
I mourn for those who part from this world tonight.
I sympathize for those who can't hear the voice of God calling Them to something more.
The overwhelming sadness that I bear penetrates me straight through my soul.
Who am I? Who am I to be living the way I do. To want more than I need? Who do I think I am? I cannot live with my selfishness. I cannot bear to live a life of unnecessary wealth when there are others who glance towards me from across the universe with the smallest Inkling of hope that I might give.

I cannot bear to take.

I do not know my history
     I just create my own.

All I know is
    I am one with the world around me.

It's the reeling.
I'm in a pit of passion.

I am infused with life and the feeling of enlightenment.  Beauty is the only way to describe my history.

My history is now.
In this very moment, I am creating my history.

The way your hair blows softly in the breeze

The way your lips curl into the perfect smile

The way your sway side to side and rock back and forth on your heels when you're nervous

The way you catch my eye and turn away shyly

The way your hand fits into mine perfectly

The way your voice plays through my mind like a melody

The way you comfort me when I need you the most

The way you humble yourself.  

These are the little things I find so irrisistable about you.

I don't know how I can explain things to you.
They are twisting and flowing through my mind.
They move so fast I cannot grasp them.
The ideas.
I feel them. They bring to me every emotion.
I have ideas, I wish I could explain to you,
But even I, their creator, cannot even explain the whirlwind of my imagination.

I sit at home alone.
I wait for my mother.
I long for my brother.
I cry for my father.
Silently.
But still I sit.
Drowning out life.
Yearning for eye contact.
It's a very very dangerous thing.
But oh, how lovely it becomes. So, so lovely.

The summer previous.  
He was beautiful.
A mastermind.
He cheated.

The summer previous.
He was kind.
he was wise.
He fooled me.

The summer previous.
He was talented.
He was engulfing.
He scarred me.

The summer previous.
He spent time.
with me.
the summer previous.

The summer previous I learned something.
Love.
Love is not a toy.
Love is not to be fooled with.
Love is God's gift.
It is his best plan for you.

Love.
it is what I learned.
The summer previous.

God.
He made
the sun.
He made
the moon.
Opposite sides of the earth, they reflect each other.  
They are, they are.
Infinitely they are love.
The crest of their love caresses the earth with each sunrise and sunset.
it holds the earth with its power.
there has never been a stronger love.
thus, the stars are born.