it must be magic
how you take my darkness and
turn it into fire

- p. winter

• The way you laid on the floor and listened to Dvorak “Romance for piano and violin, Op.11” and got lost in the music.
• The way you started to fall asleep watching Grand Budapest Hotel
• The way you grabbed my hand to stop the shaking.
• The way you took care of me when I had a little too much to drink.
• The way you ran back to campus to ensure I would get home safe.
• The way you brought me back when I started to slip.
• The way you kept my gaze as I struggled to keep my eyes open.
• The way you made me never want to look away.
• The way you watched me get lost in the music and the stars.
• The way you wrapped me in your arms that night.
• The way you kissed my forehead.
• The way you pulled the blankets off me in the morning.
• The way you played with my nephew, and I could see the future ahead of you.
• The way you get lost in your own mind.
• The way you talk of the galaxies.
• The way you always know how to respond.
• The way you laid in my bed.
• The way you accept everyone.
• The way you strive to be better.
• The way you talk to me.
• The way you always know what I’m thinking.
• The way you make me wonder.
• The way you melted into my family.
• The way you care about my family.
• The way you care about your family.
• The way you are so selfless.
• The way you want to run.
• The way you want to get out of this town.
• The way you care about everyone.
• The way you try to escape.
• The way you seclude yourself from others.
• The way I feel like I can’t help you.
• The way I sat there with nothing to say as you cried.
• The way I feel when I see you with her.
• The way I struggle to get out of bed.
• The way I can’t focus.
• The way I can forgive you.
• The way I sit wordless with so much to say.
• The way I wish you saw me.

Don't worry, love,
I know those gates of stone
stand firmly
to guard the most precious parts
of your soul.

I am not here like the others;
not as a warrior
planning a siege
or a strategist
plotting to knock them down.

I respect your walls too much.

You have fought in more wars
than most;
you have been betrayed by more loves
than most could survive -
your walls are the result
of your scars.

So here I stand before you,
my weapons laid down,
my intentions spread out before the Sun,
with nothing in my hands
but open palms,
asking you
to let me in.

Show me, love,
all those terrible,
beautiful
wild flowers
growing in your garden -
I want to do nothing
but paint them to remember,
and carry their fallen petals
safely in my heart.

Open up to me, please,
my love -
I am already yours.

body aches
skin feels cool
it's lost all its warmth
from not being with you

I'm so torn
I can't breathe
I'm gasping for air
I can't find the light
I am enclosed in darkness
Please someone
save
me
I am drowning in confusion
I seek guidance but find only dead ends
Someone please
show me the straight and narrow way

He wants to read my poems,
he wants to see what
I have written about him.
I wonder why I am so scared
for him to see my thoughts
laid bare with no filters.
Maybe because I still have that fear
that he will run away
once he realizes how real this is.