It's been some days
And I've seen some change
But I'm finally okay

I write this with tears in my eyes.
Not of anger or sorrow
But of love.
The tremble of my fingers smears the ink of my pen.
A memory I've kept so dear,
Like a child with his teddy bear-
An angel in a black tie-dye BMTH shirt,
The one I gave you.
You wore almost every time I saw you
You said it was soft.
You loved it so much.
I still remember every outfit you've ever worn.
When we first met:
The long sleeve HDLMS shirt, black pants, black vans.
Your hair was up in a bun,
One I've come to love.
You wore red lipstick,
Which you didn't know yet I loved so much.
Our first kiss at my job:
A black shirt, cheetah pants.
Your hair was still curled from your competition-
I thought you should have won-
You wore a purple-ish lipstick.
When it came time for us to leave, I picked you a flower,
You surprised me with a kiss.
God, that kiss from one of his finest creations.
That's when I knew we were meant for each other.
When I came to your house:
You wore that BMTH shirt, black leggings, white vans.
Your makeup was done
Your hair in a bun.
How beautiful you looked.
We sat outside
Talked for hours.
We looked at the stars and talked of god.
I knew he was real every time I looked in your eyes.
Your sister's birthday:
A metallica shirt with the sleeves cut, blue jeans, black vans.
You wore that same lipstick from when we first kissed.
We had dinner,
I had some beer.
We kissed.
I couldn't let you go.
When you came to my house:
I don't remember what you wore, only what you didn't.
I do remember that candle you dropped and how I told you to run.
That was fun.
The first time in Grapevine:
You wore a red flannel, a denim jacket, black pants, black vans.
We had dinner.
I had water.
I was sick, but you still let me sneak a kiss.
Photos under the mistletoe,
The first time I picked you up.
I got you that ******* you wanted.
The second time in Grapevine:
God I had never seen a sight so divine.
You wore bedsheets better than Kim wears Givenchi.
I couldn't keep my hands to myself
And you were okay with it.
I told you I loved you
And I meant it.
I still do.
I'm going to miss your eyes
Your smile
The way you looked at me when I made a smart-*** remark.
The way we play argued
And you let me nibble on your neck-
That made you giggle.
Our tickle fights-
How I adore your laugh.
The way you hugged me when you saw me-
I could tell you were true.
My other half,
When you read this I want you to know,
I love you more than the stars I hold dear-
More than the air that I breathe,
And oh how I love to breathe.
Te amo mi amor.

Poetry doesn't always have to rhyme.
Sometimes it's just how you see life
Or how life sees you
Or sees itself.
It's a strange concept- life.
I was once asked by a younger friend of mine, although I am merely twenty-three, what was the meaning of life?
I, like many others, didn't know the answer to such a complex question, but still I pondered it.
I recalled a moment in my life where I had been experimenting with marijuana, not as a means of simply getting baked, but as a tool to experience.
In one of my psychedelic wanings between time and space, I found myself asking questions.
I swirled into myself, my true self, and found that, from my perspective, life is meant as an experience.
To live
To love
To feel
To learn
To understand
To teach to others what we have learned.
And in knowing this- life, and the world I see from my infinitely finite point in this mass of perplexities, became all the more beautiful.
I began to see things as others do.
And still, it was beautiful.
Beautiful, because I was allowed by the creator to experience and wonder the poetry that has been laid before us.

Sometimes I wish I was like those people who
Can **** whomever they please
And continue about their life
As if nothing ever happened
Emotionless
Unattached

They said
"Be careful young boy
Things are gonna be the same
You think that she will
But she ain't never gonna change
She'll play with your heart
Like she's playing some game
She'll take your next breath
And exchange it for pain"

But I was deaf as a dog
And kept the same path
Now I'm lost in a fog
And my mind is going mad
And I'm praying to god
"Send me off with a bang"
Sho' enough as I finished those words
Came a car with a man with a drink in his lap
Forty mile-an-hour and my neck it went snap
But he didn't stop though his windshield was cracked
So he drove to Austin, Texas and never looked back
Now my bones lie on an old dirt road
Left for the wolves and the gnats

You don't know what love is

I'll never subscribe to the ills of modern romance.
The intrinsic notion that if it isn't perfect, it stands no chance.
There is no such thing as making it work anymore,
And god forbid its a slight chore
To take a chance and make it work.
**** it
**** her
**** me
There's plenty more fish at sea
But those are words I don't mean
Syllables spilling out of my teeth
Because I'm hurt and angry
Hurt by you
Angry at me
All the words I tied in knots to craft a frame that adorns your divine face.
And I hate myself because I find myself in a new faith
A new religion
Like that Lana Del Rey song
The one you told me to listen to
Though my favorite is Honeymoon
I don't know if this a catharsis
But I had to get these ******* words
Out of my skull
They gnaw at my brain and my bone
And don't let me sleep at night
They're akin to the dimmest street light
At your window
A speck in an otherwise ebony sky
That drone on the lid of your eyes
I just want peace of mind
And you to be mine