When grandfather strikes a dozen
The light of my “friend” starts to shine
Shine so brightly, the lady in white.
When I gaze upon her, my heart begins to pine.

Sit she gently upon my bed,
I’m clueless, whether to embrace her
Or pull the covers over my head.
My dear lady in white.

Whisper a meaning of life in my ear,
Hold me tightly,
Wipe away my tears.
To some, I can imagine this being quite unsightly

The grandfather clock strikes the first,
When she fades away my soul begins to burst.
Such a shame she can’t stay.
But then again, tomorrow is another day.

So many scars.
They litter my arms like phosphorescent trash.
They are the evidence of my blades sorrow and my extreme lack of balance and grace.
But the white unmarred flesh around them, shine with a beautiful glow.
The blue pulsing veins that sliver and slice through my limb beat to the rhythm of my heart.
They remind me of the unimaginably gorgeous and amazing life I have been gifted with.
Then I focus back on the scars and realize that I have wasted so much of it.
No More.
My blade goes down the bag.
And my friends and family are now my artificial grace and poise.
This is all I need in my rehab.
It is all I can to to start picking up the memories of the Scar Tissue Trash.

Scars are there to remind us of memories,
Painful, harsh, depressing, or not.
They are there for us to ponder, and give thought.

These scars are there to forget what we went through,
But still bear the marks and scorns of time.
Their phosphorescent glow, they seem to shine.

A way to bring us back down to reality,
A way to resemble the past,
What dark shadows and thoughts we have cast.

Accidental, mutilations, carefree times of glee,
These scars are the price we pay,
And memories of what our body has to say.

From far away, comes a distant cry
Not a cry, a song
From a maiden so sweet, and ever so sly,
Looking upon her, one would think that in the world there was no wrong.

Sweet, from high and low.
She will hum, calling, calling,
To tempt the men and fluster the boys, just for show.
To move in for the ****, she is only stalling.

In the dead of night,
Her song will entrance,
Those willing to aid her plight,
They come for a kiss and a dance.

A kiss and a dance one might receive,
But a mysterious ****** would soon occur,
However, beautiful eyes are hard to deceive,
All because of a longing to spend a night with her.

Ode to snow,
There is nowhere to go.

A white blanket on the ground,
Falling softly, without a sound.

The unique pristine flakes,
No reproductions or fakes.

It’s a great day to curl up.
And hold a nice warm cup.

Its great to just sit and watch movies,
I enjoy this, very much, very truly.

There is nothing to do,
Yes I know, it’s quite true.

For a day everything stops,
Because of these delicate frozen drops.

I lover this fantastic, frozen weather.
Stuck in one spot, by a chilly tether.

The white parchment has nothing on it
No poetry to add,
Nor the story of a bleeding comet.

This writer’s block, it used to be bad.
Things go from bad to worse.
The paper beneath my hand feels sad.

Should I start with the rolling of a Hirsch,
Or should I resort to a sonnet?
Either way my pen is about to burst.

I can picture the lady, wearing her summer bonnet.
Brushing away another shadow’s kiss.
The pain of her life, painted clearly on it.

Only one more thing, will this picture miss.
It’s the pleasure of the pain,
While cupids taking a ****.

There is a difference, now and then.
Then you could taste the rain.
Now its just me, my pencil, and my pen.

He is smart
He knows how to articulate his thoughts
He knows who I am as a person
He knows Shakespeare
He quotes Shakespeare
He is someone I can share an awkward silence with comfortably
He is preferably Scottish
He is proud
He perseveres
He has principles
He is knowledgeable
He is open-minded
He is a risk-taker
He is optimistic
He is an inquirer
He is preferably a gemini, libra, aquarius or leo
He likes to read a lot
He is reflective
He is handsome (to my standards)
He has dark brown, wild, wavy hair
He has insightful eyes
He has dark brown eyes
He is insightful
He is caring
He is faithful
He sings
He dances
He plays almost every musical instrument under the sun
He is confident
He is self-assured
He is outspoken
He is bold
He is not afraid t0 show emotion
He wears his heart on his sleeve
He laughs everyday
He has a crooked, sweet smile
He has dreams
He has aspirations in life
He has goals
He has his life planned in a general outline
He is safe
He is prepared
He is spontaneous
He calls me beautiful instead of ****
He doesn't snore
He brings out my more intimate side
He is not my *****
He can play rough with me and not hurt me
He knows that I am not fragile
He knows that the only part of me that I cared if he broke it would be my heart
He is honest
He doesn't hide anything from me
He respects my privacy
He is not possessive, jealous, or overbearing
He lets my have my space when I need it
He respects me as a woman
He respects me as a lover
He respects me as a Human Being
He can clearly define love and what it means to him, and I agree
He doesn't base the strength of our relationship on ***
He does not push me into doing things I do not want to do
He has and recognizes that he has past lives
He is an old soul
He is one and at peace with his surroundings
He is spiritual
He is good
He is a healer
He believes in Magic
He believes in hope
He believes in justice
He stands his ground in a fight
He knows when to say NO
He comes with emotional baggage we can solve together
He depends on me as much as I depend on him
He can kick any ones *** in a fight
He is willing to admit his mistakes
He is not afraid to apologize to me for anything
He is willing to change for the better
We connect on a deep level
He has and recognizes that he has psychic powers
He is smart when under the influence
He uses his God-given brain
He uses common sense
He is perfect for me.