sweet downfall,
i find myself crashing harder than the time before

i'm chasing what i've romanticized,
a false interpretation that
his smile was the only source of light in my mind's darkest crevasses,
his eyes were full of an expected curiosity
but i've learned not to lean on my own understanding

he pulled streams from my eyes without awareness,
and he keeps these tides continuous

it seems like i can't get the image
of sitting in the passenger seat,
watching the lights of the traffic signals
reflect on his face,
camouflaging his blushing cheeks
out of my head of distorted dreams
and impossible realities

i lean in until i wake up

he is oil,
i am water,
somehow the laws of the universe
prohibit us from ever meeting.

one of us is handling that predicament
better than the other.

When I saw you...the room illuminated.
Wierd.
When I heard you speak....my heart jumped.
Strange.
Every time I see you...the butterflies in my stomach go frantic.
This isn't normal...it is crazy because it doesn't make sense.
Who are you to invade my mind, my heart, my imagination.
Day dream...only to come back to reality of you far from me.
What is it that captured me?
What difference could you bring into my life, maybe I don't need it.
Yes I don't need it, didn't get this far to only walk backwards.
The power of the tongue is extraordinary...holds the signals to your next step.
And at this point...I will choose my words wisely. Conceive thoughts that will bear fruit and not throw back in my face yester - year's harvest.
But...how good it is to have my senses back,
Nearly lost them in the whirlwind of a masked enemy.
Feet are back on solid ground and mind is clear.
Cluttered again with the everyday routine.
Seeing you now...The room is back to its normal lighting.
When I hear you speak, my heart beats like any other time...
And the butterflies that went frantic when I saw you have actually flown away, leaving this place vacant.
Weird.

There are 1.5 million of them.
Words, that is, in English.

Only three matter:
I is a pronoun.
Love, a verb.
And you is more important
Than all the rest.

One for every five-hundred-thousand,
But you is one in a trillion.

She felt she was a jellyfish, floating round, manipulated easily, seen through, landing where she landed and leaving when she’d leave. But occasionally she’d hurt those that got too close.

She’d sting them. She didn’t want to. And was sorry ever since, but her tentacles were made. Made with the stingers ready for anyone that got too close.

She tried to stay away from the sea but needed it to survive, so she’d drift in the same currents, the same as everyone else just kept distance, kept them safe.

Until that brave turtle came along, nearly impenetrable. So protected from danger and he lured her away from loneliness. There was a moment of convincing. He had to show her that he was strong enough and he seemed strong enough to resist her pains.

But he was too strong, too bottled up in his shell. No communicating with the inside, and it was tough for her. After a while he let down his guard and with one quick motion he slipped on her tentacle. He was hurt and left.

Now left alone to face the current with few jellyfish friends who had chosen the back path, but she needed someone close and as much as she loved her friends, they weren’t enough.

She hasn’t forgot that turtle to this day and she wished upon a twinkling coral that she may have him back. But maybe it isn’t meant to be.

Back to reality now, enough with the fish metaphors, as much as I like them. I guess I like them because they make me feel like I could be close to her. Maybe even close enough to be her turtle. One problem.

I can’t swim