Some people give too much
and the others just keep taking
but you and I took that to a whole new level
when I gave you
everything I had to give
but you still left
because *broken pieces were never enough for you.

The clouds are the same shade of purple as her bruises on her knees
From stumbling around
Drunk. Always drunk
The sky spits on the roof of her top floor apartment
Heavy rain leaking from little cracks and corners of the ceiling
There's a *** on the kitchen floor
A bucket on the bathroom counter
An old ice cream tub on the couch
All collecting the steady drip from the walls
Sometimes she kisses and feels nothing
Sometimes she kisses and feels her ribs crack open
Most days, she feels hollow
You can see her, a smoking *** of boiling water
Her blood bubbles boiling to the top
Rusting thrift store cookware flooding onto the floor
Even after you empty all those buckets
They will always fill back up

****, I wish it would stop raining.

Your mosaic soul shows cracks, shattered glass,
jagged on the edges
and red where your pricked your fingers trying to pick them up.
I see pieces putting together something greater.
your water color freckles,
splattered over pale skin.
I'd compare them to the constellations, but those are just shapes
and the path im tracing with my fingers tells me much more.
there's no dawn in your golden brown eyes,
the sun I see shinning through stained glass is too bright to be just barely rising.
you are reckless laughter caught in a shutter
a frame by frame moment of the last trickles of childhood
blackness blurring the edges around you
from being left too long in the developer.
your lips feel like oil pants,
sliding over mine like a blank canvas,
I can still see the masterpiece you made me into.
I can still feel the whips of graphite tears pouring down your cheeks as you let all of the art you hold inside.

I should not dream so much about you
Yet I do
That even when I close my eyes,my slumber calls out your name in the dark
It tangles it's legs in thoughts of you
And even when I have days I try to pry them free
I still fail,because you cannot untangle your soul,you cannot untangle everything you are without drawing blood
And I don't want to bleed

Love* is seeing imperfect things perfectly
Their flaws, which catches you,
Their smile, which means nothing to others but means a lot to you,
"Love is blind.", Indeed it is,
Turn-off's and on's isn't a big thing when you're in love,
Just the fact seeing them makes you happy,
makes you smile instantly
foul smells, unpleasant things or anything doesn't matter if you
really love them
I doubt people who says that they already have their true love
Where's the love there?
Love, because he/she looks good? 
Because he/she is rich?
Loving someone despite their flaws and issues is what we called true love
Added by trust, respect and faith are the perfect ingredients to achieve true love,
Just by accepting them in any imperfections that they have will mean a lot.

You see the beauty.
I see only questions
which need no answers.
I am at once
vulnerable and defiant.

You cut through the pretence
of the important trivial things.
The morning news
is enough to bring me down.

I sulk in bed, wondering
what is the point of getting up.
You make sure I find one every day.

You know the significance
of not taking my navel-gazing
too seriously.

And when I despair at the futility
of trying to fix the broken world,
you show me with your endless zeal
and unwavering hope
that just trying
can make all the difference.

I never meant
To fall in love
I never meant
To fall in love
With you

But when you smiled
And called me beautiful
And told me
I was always on your mind
And that we would
Be forever until the end

How could I not?
Then I figured you
Out
You are a liar
You broke
Me
You broke the
Only me
I'd ever
Have