At the end of the night,
I will bow,
In one swift motion,
As the pressure releases,
Like the beat of a butterfly’s wing
Or it’s gentle heart.

At the end of the night,
I will drift off,
In the ocean of my mind,
Asleep at last,
I free fall through space,
Like a shimmering bubble,
Formed by a child’s breath,
Sent off into the word,
*Careless and free.

No matter how close I stand to you it's never close enough.
I will always need you.
You are the sun I want to soak in all over, the warmth radiating in my smile.
And the closer you stand the farther you feel because the nearer you are to me the more painfully aware I am of the space stretching endlessly between us.
I can always hear the dull roar within me that draws me to you.
And sometimes the pull is so strong that I physically hurt inside and it's like my heart is falling off a cliff and it won't stop sinking.
You're right there. So close I could feel your breath if only you would turn you head just a little.
And it's dark.
My eyes search for yours, a desperate look etched onto my face.
But your eyes don't meet mine.
I refuse to look away for fear of missing that impossible moment when you lift your gaze and despite the faces surrounding us you will look at me.
Look, for the first time and see something you have not before.
And take one step closer.
I will take you in my arms and the room will explode and everyone else will melt away.
But I won't kiss you.
Not yet.
The drum roll will be too great, too powerful. The years of separation will fall away like dust and that will be enough.
I will  hold your head and you will take my waist and we will both just know
If the world ended right in that instant
We would die Fearless. Full. Content.
And with everyone's eyes on us, That's when I will kiss you.
Because then, everyone else would see it too. They would see it in us.
I will close my eyes and for the first time there wouldn't be blackness.
We would be fearless.

She says, “I'm too tall”
Because she thinks she is too big to be held
She says, “I hate my voice”
Because she can only hear herself in recordings
She says, “I don’t know what I'm doing”
Because she can’t see past her shortcomings

But what she doesn't know is that with her head up to my chin she is the perfect size to fall into my arms and be wrapped in an embrace bigger than her insecurities
Or that the low, velvet tone of her voice that dances from her lips could never be captured by a video
Or that her imperfections cower in the face of her all her strengths

And she doesn't know
That I do.

Once I had a dream that drifted, scarred and sang and fell.
That echoed through the now empty cave that I refer to as my heart.
It danced through my head where it planted and began to grow.
It blossomed and lulled me into a trace.
You met me there, the blooming buds of roses, red like rubies or crimson blood.
Unlike roses, though, you lacked any thorns.
With all the passion of a storm you blew into my dreams and stole my attention and my affection.
All the corners of my mind were drunk with my affinity and captured by a vague impression of your beauty.
But all roses have thorns and I was a fool to have ignored the horned demons I clutched so tightly in my hands, the very ones I held in my heart, the ones I allowed passage into my mind.
I held the thorns with twisted bliss, the intoxicating agony that was your innermost self.
Clouded by the poison I held fast but like the delicate and masochistic rose you were, you withered in the heat.
The sun beat down and while I stood, sweating, crying, fighting for us, you fled.
You fled. You left. You ran and left me alone in the sun, drowning in the heat,  with broken hands and broken heart.
My hands, callused and scorched are left with holes, holes from holding you despite your crime.
My heart is left with holes, holes from your hands which took hold of it and wrenched the life from it.
Once I had a dream that drifted, scarred and sang and fell.
A dream of us, of me and you, of our flame which ended with a word.
A word, a single word, a word which turned the flame against us to burn and scar our hands and our hearts.
A single word which you uttered with all the passion you could muster.
A single word which took the moments, the memories, the smiles.
The heat of your breath, the touch of your skin, the warmth of your smile, the fire in your eyes.
All for nothing.
Once I had a dream that drifted, scarred and sang and fell.
That dream was you.
Thank God I woke up.

Sprinkles of golden dust frame those months.
Your delicate fingers.
Endless, strawberry kissed rainfall.
City lights drowned in a star tinted mist.
Cinnamon secrets.
Freedom soaring beside your wind tussled hair.
Honey flavoured kisses.
Sand powdered clothes and sun bleached love that faded too fast.
But that's just it:
It faded. And now there's nothing left.

sometimes my words carry me away
and there is nothing left to do but fall
in a beautiful entanglement
of color
splattered on a ready canvas
undaunted by the wild array
of disastrous beauty-
chaotic portraits
reaching astronomical heights
like the constellations formed with the breath of stars

I have always wanted a dancer
A girl whose passion comes out from her movements
Whose innovation flows through her body
But she is not a dancer
And yet she dances her way through my head
Graceful movements that cannot be translated into reality
With her bright eyes
She looks into my soul
I wish she could know my every thought
I would hold her close
Breathe her in
And cherish that scent
In the little box that holds my heart
Where she doesn't know
She lives.

there is something about a door with a lock
that makes me desperate to find the key.

the mystery carries an almost euphoric presence.
it likes to surface occasionally
and tug at the corners of my heart
just enough to remind me of an insatiable thirst
that i didn't realize had lingered.

i couldn't say for sure what it is that draws me in
perhaps it's the hidden secrets
or the complex workings
maybe just the appearance-
the kind that carries a promise
or emits a sense of adventure

and if you couldn't already tell,
i'm not talking about doors anymore.