I never realized how much a part of me you were
until
I was pried from my dream world
though I thought I was immovable
with my grip tighter than super glue
and it hit me
the realization that
  I could lose you.
It felt as though I was speeding into a cement wall
and whirling, no control, being ****** into a riptide
all at the same time
And watching you suffering
  I swear to you a piece of me died

Everything is uglier up close
     the city lights, the country dirt, that boy in
     high school that you thought you loved,
     the shades of blue painting the fall sky

But not you

From a distance
     your eyes enchant me
     the curve of your lips so intriguing--
     inviting me in

But up close
     your eyes hypnotize me-
     render useless my sharp tongue
     haunting my loveliest dreams
     while illuminating my darkest nightmares

     your lips reduce my quick wit
     my poets heart
     to nothing but
     'roses are red, violets are blue'-
     stealing my poetry from me
     with the gentle, star-crossed love
     with which the sun steals the stage
     from the moon each dawn
     because I can think of nothing
     but you

You are beautiful up close,
but my racing heart convinces me
you are safer
at a distance

Everyone has heard that looks don't tell the whole story
But no one could deny the story written in your eyes
  especially not me
Among my millions of weaknesses,
  my weakness for you was by far the greatest
I gripped onto every word your eyes silently spoke
I was transfixed by the metaphors and similes
  and I began to lose sight of that thing called reality
And that was okay
Because I had your stories and your poems
  and you taught me how sanity was overrated
  and that texting was outdated
  because the things that really mattered
  couldn't be contained by mere words on a screen
  they could only be shared in
The poems of a glance
The harmonies of a shared thought
  without a word to be heard
And that as long as we could un-become
  the sane things we pretend to be
We would be okay
Because the farthest away from sanity is where
  you find the desires of the heart
  and the three a.m. thoughts
  and the most beautiful souls
The insane find homes in poetry
The poems of a glance
And the story written in your eyes

How ironic that my heart
chooses to break over the boy
that was never mine

How ironic that the clouds
hide the sky and the rain cries down
on my happiest days
And on my worst, the sun electrifies the earth

Maybe it's God
trying to tell me I'll be fine
but I don't think He understands that I need more time

I am at the point of heartbreak
where I can only think in rhymes
My heart exploding from landmines
I had been too blind to see

And my mind is racing
I can't take a penny when at times like these
my thoughts are worth a dime

At the point of heartbreak I can only think in rhymes
Heart exploding from landmines to which I had been blind
All because of the boy
Who was never mine
And doesn't care

I have never felt more at peace than when in the middle of a storm

whipping winds and relentless rain ripping down branches and flooding lakes

                    nature destroying itself

while simultaneously coaxing flowers' seeds to surface from the soil to grace the world with their beauty, birthing the most beautiful colors out of the darkest nights

storms remind me that chaos is natural and that to bring out the most beautiful things,
we must first weather the storm within and that we will sometimes destroy ourselves in the process

but the next day we will shine ever brighter

--the world looks most beautiful after the biggest storms

I think that I want to be in love so badly
that I have fallen head over heels in love
    with the mere idea of
        love
My love for love has intoxicated
    every intersection of my soul
    and I am so sorry, but
        you
    have become the victim of
    this drunken love

Do NOT fall in love with the poet

She does not make sense
     She doesn't sleep, forgets to eat
     and at times must be reminded to breathe
     Her body cannot fulfill its basic needs
     yet her mind wanders far beyond its reach
She does not make sense

Do NOT fall in love with the poet

She is not good with words
     Though she will never fail to tell you
     she loves you
     she will never be satisfied with
     the combination of words that she strings together
     in a sorry attempt to express how much
     it will ever be enough
     because unless given
     paper, a pen, and far too much time
She is not good with words

Do NOT fall in love with the poet

She is broken
     Her heart has been carefully sewn together
     only to be carelessly dropped the second
     someone better comes along
     She does not
          and may not ever
     believe that she is enough
     more irreparable than a shattered mirror
She is broken

I am in love with people I have never met
        homesick for places I have never been
        I have memories of experiences I have never known
Leaving me with the broken hearts of strangers
        I have never had the chance to love
And the strong arms
        that have never held me
Yet those arms are my home, my recluse
        those broken hearts weigh heavy on mine
        those experiences are my
                compass leading me through the
                twists and turns of life
                on blind faith alone
And those people, those lovers unknown
        light up my sky like the stars at midnight
        always there
        countless and beyond reach
        waiting to be loved
                and give love in return