Hello poetry,
Have you come to whisk me away into another fantasy
Float me down the river of another memory
Guide me into an abyss, searching for my sanity
Remove me from this place, drifting from gravity

I shut my eyes, let out my hand and let poetry do away with me.

You relinquish your beauty when you allow others to decide what is beautiful about you.

The worst part is that I don't want to let you go,
because I can't accept this life without you.

Maybe one day I'll finish all of these half started rhymes
When the day comes where I can lay in tulips all day sipping a bottle of wine
When the earth stops spinning and I'm resting on cloud

...   ...    ...   ...

So here's to another, half finished piece
Maybe it'll find you more solace than it ever did me.

382 days and counting
Since I've last seen you
Not a day has gone by since then
That I don't incredibly miss you
Hardly a single breath of fresh air has been
Inhaled without even the slightest hint of you
And all I seem to do is drink more without you

382 days checked off the calendar but I still keep waiting
Anticipating for the morning I wake up when I'm no longer waiting
Waiting to let go or the day I stop wasting
Wasting these days away, erasing the images I keep repainting
Beautiful mural images all over my mind and I can't  stop retracing
Remembering all of our bitter night endings
are better than this empty bed that I'm facing

382 days have passed and I'm trying to let go
Clenching my fists toward my stomach and taking a blow
Pulling my hair out from the roots just to watch it regrow
Smiling in front of the world and screaming into my pillow
Going crazy and wishing I could go back to 382 days ago.

She was the fighter, the rebel
Hidden behind cherry lips
Pale and slender, a voice that would make you surrender
With eyes like an eclipse

Carefully plotted schemes she carried,
Delicate steps she always took
Armed with an army of mischievous intentions
She played the good girl well, but she was undoubtedly a crook

Ask any man, he'll tell you so
She had a reputation like no other
If you'd met her, you'd surely wish you hadn't
They call her the Heart Hunter.

Tiny fingers and wobbly toes
Boy meets girl with his eyes closed.
As tiny peanuts in shells, inside a glass bubble
So fragile and gentle they grew as a double.
True miracles on earth have been born
Loyal to each other they are sworn.
Children, we welcome you to a bright new world
Mother and father, meet your little boy and girl.