Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

I love you. I love you so much. I love you.. Love you to the moon and back.
Moon and back, what does that mean? Does it mean the amount of time that it would take me to get to the moon and back I would love you? Does it mean that love is a measurement and the moon and back is one love? Does it mean that if love was a form of energy it could take you to the moon and back? Or is simply just a figure of speech to be said meaningfully to a lover to imply great love?
Moon and back, I have heard that many times over and over, never understanding the meaning, and I think I'm not the only one.
Moon and back, if it's a amount of time then it's six days, Apollo 11 did it in six.
Moon and back, if it's a measurement then love equals 477,800 miles.
Moon and back, if it's energy then it's equal to 381,000 gallons of gas.
Moon and back, if it's a figure of speech then it's a extremely poor one.
Moon and back, I love you to the moon and back, it implies restricted love, measured love, to an extent love, timed love, ended love.
To the moon and back I will love you.
Love should not be measured, timed, restricted, ended.
Moon and back, why do we still say it? Because we saw it in the movies? "You want the moon? That's a great idea! I'll lasso the moon for ya what'd ya about that?" "Hmm, I'll take it" - it's a wonderful life. We heard it in the songs? "You want the moon? Girl watch me grab it" - Far East Movement
Why? Because we have no alternative?
Moon and back. Moon and back. To the moon and back.
What? Do we lack the capability to make new phrases? Do we lack the romanticism?
No, we lack the courage to say our thoughts. I love you till, till the sun explodes and we are ****** into darkness and even then when we are nothing, and there is nothing, there will be my love for you.
We have the fear of being laughed at for saying what our heart wants us to say. I need you like birds need wings to fly, like lions need claws to ****, like fish need water to live.
The horror, of being completely honest. I didn't love you the first time I told you I loved you, because if I did mean it then, than this must be more then love, but it can't cuz what's after love?
Moon and back, I'm tired of unromantic couples.
Moon and back, moon and back.

Moon and back, maybe we say it because deep down we all know the truth.
The truth of, moon and back, and as much as we hate it, as much as we fight it,
Love does end.

when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?

what a tragedy it would have been
if you had loved me when i had confessed
because now i know, i hadn't understood then

that my definition of love had been  
not so much actually loving but rather just
a romanticized idea of being in love instead

By now, you have probably read a handful of warnings about falling in love with writers. About how they can take you to the brightest moons or bury you to the core of the earth just by spilling their ink. About how they can forget about mundane things such as your anniversary or what time they should pick you up at work. But they remember the most intricate details such as how your freckles align on your nose or how you stir your coffee when you’re too nervous to start the day. You must have an idea about how they can build a pedestal for you to step on as if you were born to be glorified. Yet the moment you break their hearts they will write you so cruel, the history will remember your name as synonymous to tragedy. Don’t fall in love with writers, they always say. As if your life depends on it.

By the time you meet me, you will know right away that words are my way of becoming. You will sense it by the way I phrase my thoughts or how my eyes light up when talking about strange but fascinating ideas such as alternate universes or the other side. I will reference quotations from the books which pages I rummaged on every single night that I couldn’t sleep and share to you my theories about the lives of my favorite characters as if they are real. I will hold your hands and take you to bookstores and coffee shops and look at you as if you are the loveliest view. I will watch the sunset with you and listen to the sound of the waves crashing to the shore and I will stargaze with you as I confess all the wishes that I only whisper to every constellation. And I will write to you. My text messages will be like love letters that are meant to translate my heartbeats. I will whisper poetry in between our calls. And I will write for you, write about you, write like you are the destination to my unending journey.

By the moment you feel like maybe, just maybe, you are falling for me, will you run away? Will you recall every warning that you have ever read and cringe by the thought of becoming a poem? Will you struggle to break free from my embrace for you are afraid that I will strangle you when the time comes that you decide you don’t want me anymore? Will you look at my love as a hurricane and run for shelter elsewhere because you are terrified of drowning? Or will you welcome my kisses and surrender to my every touch because you don’t want to let go of this feeling? Will you hold me like you will never drop me? Will you put your arms around me and protect the world that I created for myself from the harsh bits of reality? Will you read my words over and over again, memorize every line, embed every sentence in your mind and bury them in your heart like precious treasures that others don’t have the right to get hold of?

If you are going to fall for me, fall not for the flowery meadow that I grow using my proses but for the way I caress your skin just to ease your tiredness. If you are going to stay, stay not because of how I paint you with the most vibrant words but because of how I understand you and accept you beyond all your flaws and imperfections. If you are going to hold me, hold me not because of the warmth that the blanket of my sonnets that can give you but because of the comfort that my presence can cause you even if we are surrounded by silence.

Forget all the warnings that you have ever read about not falling in love with a writer and love me. Love me not because of how words anchor me to myself but because I am human who deserves to receive love and who was born yearning to give it away just like everyone else. Love me as I love you and make me realize that the reality of you and I is so much greater than all the universes that I have penned down, combined. Love me without words. And we will be enough. We will be enough.

i have come to accept
the decisions i have made in this life
and regret only nothing
that life goes on
and you should too