She was there smiling for me
without
hesitation
without
**medication

Her heart is made up of candles that are always easily blown out by those that she loves so dearly.

Truth will forever be like grains of sand

seeping through the cracks of your hand

I held onto her hand tightly, guiding her through a field of lilies .
The sun shining bright as we weave through.
She stops and let's go of my hand.
I turn around and stare into her blue eyes, words escape her lips.
"I can't..."
Thus engraved in my mind an image of a thousand lilies.

She pursed her lips, smiled
and
devastated me with her lilac eyes.

She loves to lie, lie and lie.

It paints her different colors when she lies.

She lies in red, blue, yellow and all the other colors of the rainbow.

When she's angry she lies red.

When she's sad she lies blue

When she's happy she lies yellow.

but

when she's with me she lies white.

She was the only one that was able to bring me closest to the stars.

She's gone off and left me in the nightened sky.

Left there, floating amidst the clouds.

Now I wait for the eternal sunshine to rise.

She and I are cut from the same branch, from the same tree,
planted in the same soil.

There's not much difference between her and I.

The time that is spent with her seems to play out like a scene from a theater.

With her on the other side of the small table as we
sip away from the same ice cream float.

When we're done, she grabs my hand and drags me to the
place where happiness is always worn.

The amusement park.

She shows me the bright carousal in the center
of the park.

This is her special place and she wants to share it with me.

As we ride the colorful horse,
my eyes meet her gaze of infatuation.

After the ride she decides to drag me to go get some
cotton candy.

My hands and lips are sticky from the cotton candy.

My eye meet her constant gaze of infatuation.

It's the end of and we both lay in a tuffle of grass,
holding each others hands.

As I turned towards her, our eyes meet for the last time.

*"Thank you for the memories of cotton candy pink"

She had lost me the moment she realized she didn't love me anymore.

She left me in the lost and found...

All I did was wait, waiting to be found again...

There’s a little wooden house on the corner with a beautiful garden in the front.

It always ropes in the attention of the whole town when spring comes along.

The main attraction is a garden in the front with a small batch of roses.

These roses are beautiful with different shades of red coloring the vivid green bush it’s sprouting from.

But there’s one small purple rose amongst a bed of red, just a bit off to the right.

No one pays attention to this purple rose because of  all the other red ones.

The purple rose is fragile and beautiful looking with frail looking petals making it unnoticed.

The lady that owns the little wooden house allows you to pick the roses just as long as you don’t hurt yourselves from the thorns.

No one dares pick the purple rose cause of the rigid and thorned spine it has.

I have a go at the chance to pick the purple rose. I reach out my arm as I grabbed the thorny spine of the rose.

Holding the spine with the fullness of palm, my hand sprouting out with the blood of countless mistakes and regrets.

But this, this was never a mistake that has ever been. It was an accomplishment that no one has ever dwelled upon.

My hand hurts with the blood coursing from the center of my palm running all the way down to my elbow.

Tears start to arise on the horizon of my eyes and a small crooked smile starts to wry on the side of my face.

I am happy, and filled with joyous emotions, emotions that I can never ever fathom of experiencing.

The magnificent purple looking rose resting in the palm of my blood encrusted hand.

**“Her favorite color is purple…”

He sees the world in a admirable light

She sees the world in a pleasant light

Together

They see a beautiful world

Scars on the skin always have stories to tell,
adventures to recount,
tales to convey.

It's the unseen scars on the heart
that have nothing to say.

Except rest deep within and confess
loves that have only been repaid with
**pain.

The snow is falling softly and lightly on my skin.
Covering me in the most purest of whites.
leaving me there with my arms reaching for the sky.
Palms trying to grasp the purity of it all.

I just want to leave, leave my whole life behind.

Everyone I’ve ever known, hated and love.

Left behind without ever being there.

I want to chase the sun that lies just above the horizon.

The horizon that has always imprisoned me with a ****** life.

I’ve got nothing to show for it except writing these ****** poems about love and life.

The yellow sun is enough of a reason to make any man chase a dream fading from memory.

I want to grasp the sun and let it rest upon my ill woken palms.

I want the warmness of everything that has ever been in my hands.

Has anyone ever touched the sun?

The naturally sweetened honey sun?

"Why do I always fall in love with thieves who steal my heart and never leave me enough change to take the cab back home."

She loves to hold onto truths that were never meant for her...

"I love you"*
The words that no one wants to say too early.
The words that no one wants to say too late.
The words that everyone wants to say eventually.

Life is a lot like trying to get across a field of unshaven grass,
you'll never know if you stepped on dog **** along the way.

She was one of the passengers that passed away in a train collision yesterday

I walk these barren streets carrying the newspaper, with her name on the front page

As I walk, I am saddened to see her name being used to wrap fish at
the market

I am saddened to see her name being stuffed into gift bags at
the toy store

I am saddened to see her name littered all across the streets without
anyone caring

but

I am finally happy to see her name being wrapped around a bouquet
of chamomiles

She always loved chamomiles...

Hello Autumn,

it's been one whole year since I've last seen you

So you're back

but she's not

She* was never a mistake like the others
She was the answer to all the questions my wandering mind could present
but
She never answered the question  that my heart asked
**"Could you ever love a guy like me?"

She broke up with me and I miss her very much...
but
that's okay because the other me in a different parallel universe is still together with
**her

Life used to be wonderful.

Then it became ******.

Then it became beautiful.

When she came to me.

This world is so small
yet
none of us has seen it all

Her warm lover's embrace,
the place I used to call home.

Back then I would've given you the world but now you better give me a ******* good reason why I should.

I fell on my knees and they bled
but
they didn't bleed as much as
my heart
when
I fell for her

Always have a view where the sky is forever visible.

Why?

Because we're going to see the full moon together tonight.

Jack walks down the streets
without a care in the world.

All the girls who haven’t had
*** for the longest time crave
for the lust that lies beneath his
made in America denim jeans.

But he doesn’t care, cause he’s
already done them all.

Why can’t I be as beau as Jack,
who sways all the ladies with
just the presence of an effortless
mind.

Why can’t I be as beau as Jack,
is it cause of the way he slightly
tilts his shades that makes all the
the young pretty girls *******
wet.

He is the most desirable prize to ever
walk down the streets in the eyes of girls
that tread headless without knowing
how much of an ******* he really is.

Being beau must be pretty tough…

The Sacrificial Lambs in the Literary World
**Poets

Her heart keeps calling me and leaving messages on
my answering machine.
Sometimes I pick up but most times I don't.
She doesn't call anymore.
I call her back.
She doesn't pick up
not even once...

She loves to haunt me with what used to be us.

She loves to lie on the bed naked, deep within the confined walls
of my memories.

She loves to make me remember her just when I’m about to forget her.

She loves to see me crept in the corner of the room unable to move on.

She loves to cradle me when I am at my most vulnerable.

She loves to drink the tears I’ve cried over the next ten years.

She loved me, and yet I still love her.

She confines me.

The door shuts closed in front of me.

She’s gone, her train arrives at 7:00PM

Her belongings are riddled throughout my room with crumpled shirts on my nightstand, loose bras on the head of my pillow and our promise ring down the drain

I promised her that we would always be together until the test of time finally reaches us, but that didn’t happen.

What caught up to us was my own shitiness.

She always had dreams of becoming a dancer, while I lay in my bed dreamless.

My life was over when I got that ****** job, but her life started when she was offered a chance to dance in this new upcoming theatre play that had something to do about a loveless lonely boy.

I couldn’t go with her to see the loveless lonely boy.

I had some big shot meeting at 6:47PM that I couldn’t miss or I would get my *** handed to me.

I sit on the edge of the bed isolated in the torrents of my mind.
My body cemented to the edge of the bed where we have made emotional love countless times.

Then suddenly my eyes widened and my mind enlightened

She loves me and I love her.

I break away from the edge of our bed, go fish out our promise ring with an unwoven steel coat hanger.

I don’t want to be like that loveless lonely boy in the theatre play.

I rush out the door and in my mind, I keep repeating
"I have to go get her."

I don’t care about that big shot meeting at 6:47PM; all I care about is her.

As I get to the train station at 6:58PM, she’s there standing with a briefcase that contains the memories of us.

She looks into my tearful eyes, and I look into her eyes.

My fingers twirling with the promise ring that kept us together for so long.
*"Until the test of time reaches us…"

You.

I like you.

I like you so much as a matter of fact,

that I want to hold you close to everything that is dear to me.

**My heart, my soul and my insanity.

This love of mine lies to me.

"Love the girl that has never been loved..."
It whispers to me when I sleep.

"Say that you love her..."
It whispers to me when I sleep.

"Never forget her...
It whispers to me when I sleep.

This love of mine quenches it's thirst with lies.
Loveless lies of mine...
*(sigh...)

I walk out there without the awareness of what is going around me.
I always take the road least treaded upon and I always find my way back home,
But this is…
But this is different from before.
She was always there to hold my hand when we trekked across the path of the unwillingly.
Holding hands with her gave me comfort when my eyes were felled upon with the nightened sky.
But this time she was gone.
Now I tread on this path of regret.
When she was on the path, the calmness of my hand was not enough to guide her.
She went forth with her eyes blinded by my mistakes.
The wolves crept behind her, taking advantage of her unawareness.
The bite that left a scar on her right collarbone left me with the guilt of never being there.
The spires of my mind curling up within my head, leaves me aching for the warmness of her reassuring hand.
But she’s gone, gone with the wolves.

I write because of her
but
I also write to forget **her

"She was brought unto me of her own volition
and
I was brought unto her of my own attrition."

I met her I knew
I was going to be entranced by her.

I knew we were going to share
our first kiss.

I knew we were going to share
the most intimate moments of our lives.

I knew we were going to share
the happiest memories together.

But

The moment I met her I knew
we would eventually part our ways.

Exchanging goodbyes too somber to forget...

I just guess the other guy says
"I love you"
better than I do

It's not because I need to.
It's because I want to.

Every time I saw her

I was hoping for a romanticism of some sorts

There’s a girl that sits in the corner of my urban geography class.
I really want to talk to her because she seems like the type of girl that’d I like to know.
But I’m too afraid, afraid to even start a nice small dialogue between us.
She sits there every Tuesday morning looking down on a book of melancholy love.
She seems like the type of girl I can totally understand.
There seems to be a connection between us without anything to show for it.
She sits there every Thursday morning fiddling her red colored hair with her slender finger.
Nobody seems to notice this presence in the corner of the class except for me.
Her melancholy love and her red colored hair, seems to get me at every turn.
Just a simple “hello” would be enough to make a difference between us.
She seems like the type of girl where I can explore the urban geography with.
Climb the countless flights of stairs of the towering skyscrapers, wander the darkened alleys of the city and when we show the teacher what we found, we would get like a B- or something.
I’m too afraid to talk to her…
Why am I so afraid?
I leave her alone.
Maybe she was always s fantastical being in the figment of my imagination.
Her red colored hair and melancholy love
rest in the corner undisturbed.

When I'm having a bad day I sometimes like to look up.

The thin rays of sun penetrating the cloudy sky remind me of her.

*"From now on this day could only get better."

The sun is blinding to the eyes when looked upon.
Untouched and Undisturbed
Burning with the spires of a million flames, reducing everything to ashes
yet
gives us the most beautiful days of our ongoing lives.

When she found me, I was in pieces.
She was the only person keeping me together
But
She left me
Left me more broken than the last girl did.
My friends tell me to forget her…
But
She’s there standing everywhere I look.
She’s the only person I can hear at night.
She’s the only person I can feel on my skin.
She even loves to hide in the words as I type away.
But
I’ll never forget her.
I don’t want to forget her.
Cherishing the memories when she fixed me.