rejection stings
birds before bees
you leave me at the end of a very thin string.
marionette fitting of your puppetry,
subservient to every deception,
you had me on my toes, yearning.
naive is the bird who believes
that bees understand her song,
exposed affection like down feathers
bees gather to gorge themselves,
weep honey unto selfish wings.
you: wasp, hunter of self indulgence,
I: bird, dreamer of ignorant bliss.

It is hard to know what it means to be free
It is hard to find freedom
It is hard to find someone
Who loves you for you

But when you do, it is hard to change
Is it worth it
Are you willing to change for them
Until what point would you go to
for them

Would you set them free if they were meant to be free
Would you be strong enough to take that
What would you do
How would you control it
Why is it so hard to do something like that for you?

Maybe its not hard to do it
Just to handle it
Especially if you are alone
Who would hold you up when you fall
Would someone be there for you
Why are they there
Do they want something from you?
Are they there for the friendship,
Or for something else?

There is no time to answer these questions
Make all those mistakes but
learn to live with them
You have a million more things you can do.
Don't answer any of these questions
Because there is no more time
Don't live with YOLO

YOLO is telling you to die young
by doing everything when you are young
There is no time for doubts
there is time for  mistakes though.

A color scheme settles, into the black and white.
The areas once shaded, crosshatched, and scratched out
Have been evenly filled in with vibrant colors.

A yellow sets itself within the confines of lines on a page
As the dense blue stains heavy paper, with a bold sincerity.

Details without color, drew out texture and description.
Greens brought out life in these lines,
Red, added a thrill and suspense.

I am black and white,
I am simple, but complex to the detail.
Let's not ruin a good thing,
Color is complexity.

kiss me please.
kiss me hard.
let it leave
a mark, a scar.
let it burn and be a star.
kiss me please
and leave me charred.

I'm not so far away
as to miss it when you say
the way you feel.
i'll listen
and i'll pray
that it's real,
and steal a kiss
so that we may pay
only attention
to the tension between
our blue pools
atop mountains,
bringing them both
to the valley
to meet in the middle
and make up the sea.

kiss me.

I want to be loved
even when I
talk too loud
or curse in public.
I want to
have someone
to come home to
who will touch my cheek
and tell me
"I've missed you."
And I think love is
knowing how damaged
someone is
but sticking around
to make sure they're fixed,
and I need someone to
stick around for me.