Your thoughts circle round my head,instead of the words heard,there's an
incredible song that soothes as I tread the waves of my mind
I'm in kind with my dreams,seems that streams of comfort nestle
me safe from dread at the thought that I ought
to've brought you with me
but lately,
the safety of your arms,when i can't hear you speak doesn't wreak
as much havoc as before,cause the core,you're being
I've been seeing in my thoughts,my seams-you've broken in between,
because in the lack of noise, your voice, rings out, o're the others
and before they infect,you're yelling
in the silence:
I'm here to protect.

Declaring that you’re in a relationship will change some things.
(So maybe I'm putting it mildly)

What it doesn’t mean is that everything will suddenly be perfect.

It takes more than labeling a relationship to hold conversations just by looking into each other’s eyes,
To laugh together while having ***,
To let them convince you that when they tell you you’re beautiful they aren’t disregarding your flaws or glorifying them, but instead loving them because they’re part of you,
And that you’re the loveliest being in the universe,
No matter how many freckles they have to kiss to prove it to you.

It doesn’t mean that you’ll suddenly be able to touch your heart to theirs by giving them a goodnight kiss,
Or that they’ll slow dance to Here Comes the Sun at midnight in the middle of January,
Just because they know it makes you feel so complete inside that you’ll never, ever, want to stop kissing them,
And that you’ll be crying at the same time,
As you smile when you trip over the arm of the sofa and land with them on top of you, holding them harder than ever.

What it does mean is that what you have is mutual.

It means that you’re willing to learn how to lace your fingers together, not caring who sees how awkward it is when you can’t get them to fit quite right,
That you’ll let friendly hugs turn into blushing kisses on the cheek,
Tickle fights into a silence that fits like a missing puzzle piece around you,
As you bump noses and grin for the forty-fifth time,
At two in the morning because neither of you can say goodnight without seeing the smile on the other’s face and blushing again.

It means that person, the person you just let take your label,
The one that that lets everyone know you’re their’s because you want to be,
Is willing to try to get there.
To get there with you.

It means,
That this is a start.

Don’t let go.

Dark floats out into the silence
Crashing on the banks of Prometheus's wings
Opening a velvet-silk curtain.
To a fabric of shadowed stars
Cloudy fingers sew it clean
While invisible hands stitch pearls back in.
A ghost flits on the hallway stair
Reaching for the last shafts of sun
Tumbling off a silent dream
Blind as black with a lullaby hum
Filling the gaps in an empty line
Somewhere between dusk and dawn.

Everywhere I go I bring my camera because I never know where something beautiful will be. When I look at people or places I’m always looking for my next shot or next movie scene. I think that people miss a lot of beautiful things because they have a set idea of what beauty is. Through a camera, however, beauty can be around every corner and in every person. I believe that the true meaning behind my work is finding beauty in the small things that people take for granted and the places and people that will change people’s views on true beauty. I want to show people that train tracks can be as beautiful as a forest path, that city streets can be the great outdoors, that abandoned fields can be mansions, and that every person can be a model.

Sadness is lust for what lies just outside your reach
Wisdom is experience and cannot be preached
Trust is a suit and tie, a cunning liar
While love is the dripping bucket, that puts out the fire
Happiness is attainable, yet it’s never enough
For stability is stagnant, and it’s got you cuffed
Pain is the fuel that pollutes the air
Sure, life a game, and it aint fair
So won’t you Rest your head on this bed of nails
For none of this really matters when daylight fails

Hi, it's me again.
Craig.
I ask for you, the reader, to hang-out.
As you and your friends read with enjoyment at my miserable life that I have created.
You have read my ad a dozen times,
"Hey! My name is Craig and I just moved to this town and am looking for friends to hang out with.  I am interested in sports, talking about anything and going out at night.  I'm a relaxed guy who is into meeting new people."

The truth is:

I was never very good at sports.
I got one hit in my little league career that my Dad would forcefully take me to each game.
I never understood why reading was, "the stupid choice" as he would say whilst dragging me by the collar of my baseball jersey.
Instead of playing a sport where a young boy with not nearly respectable motor-skills
would proceed to hurl a ball as fast as he could at me.
But, when I got my one hit I stood there in shock and immediately
got thrown out before I even made it half way to first base.
That was stupid.

I do not really talk all that much.
In college they nick-named me, "****** Craig".
As you can tell, I did not go to Creative College University.
I liked studying and would spend most of my nights in the library fixated on chemical engineering.
I always thought if I studied hard enough I would be able to create my own friends through different variable compound genetics.
It did not work out.
And that is the story of how I mutated my gerbil...

I have no friends to go with at night, except Butterball.
She's my eight year-old tabby cat.
I tell her all the gossip in the world when we watch "The Soup" together.
Her personality is rather complacent.  
She does not understand the irony in Kanye West naming his child North.
I know she is just being stubborn.

I often Google search Images for Kate Upton.
She does not know it yet, but we are perfect for one another.
I can tell.
There is this feeling I get when I bring one of her pictures into photoshop
and count all the pixels that make up the perfect woman.
There are seventy-four pixels within the iris of her eye where her soul lies.
Each one unfolds into the life we will soon have one-day...

I order the same pastrami on rye sandwich
from the same deli
at the same time
every Tuesday and Friday of each week in hopes
that they will get excited when I walk in.
I leave them a dollar tip
each time
even though I am picking it up myself.
They still treat me like an average customer.
A simple nobody.

I have the face people want to punch.
I often will get into fights by simply just standing there.
It does not add up or make coherent sense.
It seems as though people revert back to primal instincts when they drink alcohol.
Suddenly this area in line at McDonald's is this guys main priority.
I politely back away and him and his five high-school buddies cut in front of me.

To the entire world:
I am ordinary.
There is nothing worse in this life than being ordinary.
But, to some person at some special point:
I will be extra-ordinary.
And I will have the appreciation for that person that no other one person can ever understand.
Because, that person who finds me will have saved a life.
My life will restart anew with that love.
Thank you.

Sincerely,
Craig-
*********
Location: Everywhere your eyes will judge.
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests