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If I even began to try and tell you how much I love you, this wouldn't ever end.
I love you more now than when I was your best friend.

Despite what people may think about the love that we both share,
Its something that I'm proud of  and unafraid to declare.

Right now, its 3:40 and I'm unable to go back to sleep,
I'm thinking about you and the promise I just can't keep.

I'm sorry I can't seem to stay up to read to you as I said,
I'm sorry that you have to face these thoughts within my head.

But baby, if there's anything I know for sure is true,
Its that despite my actions, I'm hopelessly in love with you.

You've been here for me since day one and you've never let me down,
You talk and make me smile when all I know is how to frown.

And if you couldn't see it, or if you doubt its truth,
If, like other people, you start to doubt such love for youths,

I really just need to tell you, as I lay awake in bed,
All the time, its mostly you that resides within my head.

I know that this is cheesy, writing a silly little jig,
Its as though we're both little, passing notes just like we're kids.

But it seems that, for some reason, the words, they flow tonight.
Its the first time in a long time I've been able to just write.

I feel that now is perfect, to explain to you these things,
That make me feel worse than the worst of all my dreams.

You see, if there's anything I'm good at, its writing things like this,
The words, they flow much easier. It kind of brings me bliss.

Baby, let me tell you of the things that make me cry,
Like when I get alone, sometimes I wish that id just die.

Or sometimes, out of nowhere, I just stare and fight back tears,
Because I think of silly things that happened through the years.

Sometimes, on occasion, I even think of you,
I know that its upsetting that sometimes I doubt what's true.

And even still, there's more to tell.
Some things that make me yell.

Like people like my mom and dad,
Who make just living hell.

But baby, if there's anything I've learned now not to doubt,
Its that this love is genuine; you, I can't live without.

And baby, if that's not genuine or if you still can't see,
Think of how you see me, and multiply by three.

That's how I feel about you, although its much much more.
For you, Id be your everything. Id be who you adore.

What makes this thing that we've both special and unique,
Is that we can love each other without kisses on the cheek.

At our age, it seems silly, stupid or naive,
That's what people tell me when I say when I will leave.

But they can't seem to see you in the way that I just do,
They can't seem to tell that I'm desperate to be with you.

Baby, I love you, of this I'm extremely sure.
Baby, you're my everything and still you so much more.

So now I've told you everything, of why my mood just drops,
I've told you of what I think of when I'm crushed by rocks.

I've tried to tell you how I feel, the words aren't flowing freely,
It seems that for now its time for my talent to start to leave me.

So baby, keep your head up now and smile all today,
Don't forget about the words that I always can say.

Baby, I love you, don't forget, now, I'm heading back to sleep.
Thanks for being the only one who doesn't scream "black sheep."
You know me better than I know me,
or perhaps I don't really know myself at all.

Maybe I only I liked the way the burns felt
because the heat marked the place of where your hands should have been,
and the pain reminded me of how bad it hurt that they weren't.

And you know my fears before I have to face them;
that racism is no longer a war of picket signs and water hoses,
but the way your father will look at you when he sees the way you look at me,
and the way your mother will look at me when I look at her for some hint of acceptance
and only find disgust in the shadows where her eyes should have been.

I know you better than you know you,
because you don't really know yourself at all.

Maybe you only inhaled crystal grains
because every shard of glass that shredded your lungs reminded you
of the times you tried to take a breath but realized that you were suffocating.

Because your pockmarked walls had holes that matched the ones in your heart,
one for every person that falsely assumed that abandonment
only created wounds that were self inflicted.

And maybe that's why we are like two jigsaw pieces from different sets,
that somehow managed, by chance, to match each other's jagged edges
and create a whole new picture.
A one in a million chance, that we both took.
 May 2014 Of These Oceans
Lunar
beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display
The human heart is a wretched, awful thing
It beats with selfishness and lies
Then right when you're about to give up
The sadistic thing gives you hope
It’s in the night,
when light recedes to leave me with my thoughts
and the darkness encompasses every crevice of my room and of my mind,
that the person I am is most illuminated.
In those long hours
that stretch with lack of sleep
my thoughts are as clear as a cloudless blue sky.

On good nights, there'll be thoughts of my future, of my hopes and my dreams.
On good nights my imagination will soar to heights beyond the sky
for on good nights not even the sky is the limit.
But good nights are rare and most nights,
the darkness seeps into my thoughts
with the past.
with each and every imperfection that owns me.
All my weaknesses and fears
are painted on a black canvas
portraying the things I’m so afraid the world will see.
my cowardess,
loneliness,
hopelessness.
my fears of betrayal
of feeling too much,
caring too much,
loving too much…yet not enough.

Like tendrils of smoke
the thoughts linger on one fear then float away
only to be replaced by another.
As my eyelids become cinemas of the past,
images of innocence lost flash behind my eyelids
Almost as if they’re stuck on repeat

Sometimes, I embrace those nights
As if they were an old friend.
I wonder if that makes me masochistic but
Truth is those nights,
difficult though they may be,
are the times I’m most honest with myself.
Our fingers
knotted and crossed
locked in a finger hug
hand hold
on the roof
in the moonlight.
Always in the moonlight.
And you said
how glad you were
to be away from them -
they would laugh if they saw.
Stupid
immature
idiots.
I guess later you changed your mind,
because your long fingers reached for mine
in a big room,
under the glare of flourescent bulbs

Everyone saw,
but no one laughed
at us.
this is a poem I'm actually really proud of
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