on the steps of the notre dame
i lost my sense of color
every moonbeam through the
cracked walls of the House of God
danced around me like blue gypsies
performing a ritual upon
every ringlet of hair on my head

in the catacombs of paris
i lost my sense of touch
every skull feeling like silk
dead calcium caressing
the flesh beneath which
my bones were moving
alive and restless

beneath the arc de triomphe
i lost myself
the curve of stone caving in on me
like a Parisian Goliath
and I, a madman David
names of fallen soldiers
engraved upon the walls
breathed back to life
from dust they have returned
they reach into my cerebrum
their stone fingers pulsing
with the hymnals of war
to meet with the battle
of indigos and crimsons coursing
through every nerve of my anatomy

behind the eiffel tower
i lost my art
paris lights beating down
a beast sleeping through the
tides of eulogies and odes
its orphans have to offer

How tragic it is that the sun sets everyday
The darkness comes out to play
And the sun's the one to blame
For leaving everything cold and grey
For disappearing as fast as it came

in a cathedral of my own making
i am dust basked in sun light
with hands stretched out
to love the pillars
that have held me up
when the stained glass windows
were celebrated for the
light they let in
and the most divine part of me
the cracks of my temple at
the bottom of my spine were
left to widen like horizons
begging to be spread farther
were left like myths untold
but all the stories are true
and the smallest parts of me
are not fables and myths
left to keep your imagination
alive and you afloat
the smallest parts of me
are particles that have
held me up longer
than you have
and i may be alone
just as many of us are
but who has time to
count a star
when astronomers count
galaxies on the tips of their fingers
and i am but an atom of the universe
just as we all are

i saw you the way an artist does
brilliant and bathed in holy fire
your scars
the strokes of a brush
your anatomy every medium
your smile
a photograph in
black and white
your lips
oil on canvas
your eyes
watercolor on paper
your hair
texture and dimension
on a portrait
you and i
an unfinished graffiti
an unorthodox art form
fleeting and reflective
but a masterpiece
nonetheless

When I was 4 years old I remember having a huge crush on this guy in my kindergarten class. I kept trying to play with him but he didn't want to because I didn't know how to spell the word... "Cat". And in my final act of convincing, he punched me so he could play with the girl next to me who did know how to spell cat.

I was 6 and a half to be exact and I remember coming home to screaming and crying with glass on the floor. "Mom and dad are fighting... Again" I thought. My other siblings had to physically pull them apart (sobbing whilst doing so) so that they wouldn't ****** each other. While my brothers and sisters wondered when my parents lost their happiness, I casually played with my toys wondering if they were ever even happy.  

I was 8 when my older sister told me to never love or get into a relationship because it would just end in smoke and ash and we'd both disappear into the grey clouds acting like nothing ever happened.

I was 10 when I heard the news that after many years of love and loyalty my brother's wife was cheating on him with a military man. All hail America! Am I right?

I was 14 when I picked my sister up... Drunk and in tears. She was vomiting her insides out and I, being worried (and a snoop) asked her what happened. And she slowly replied "he did"

Once she said that I was 5 again. Watching a Disney fairytale and saying "that's not true" as the narrator said "and they lived happily ever after"

I am 16 and I remember seeing your face the other day. And all of I sudden... I was 3 again and a princess wishing upon pumpkins and taking to mice... Believing that I could live happily ever after.