he hold his hands up
every night
trying to reach a star
he's been doing that for so long...

how foolish can that man be?
its just impossible.

Broken hearts gave us the best poets in the world.

while they are drowned in their dreams so deep
i'm sippin' coffee with plans of no sleep

tell me
    in  every  trial
  we'll  always   get    through
           make    me      believe
                     that     forever      is        true

  to leave  me
       you   will   never    do
     tell    me,
            until      the      end,
                   my      love,
                           it's      me      and        you

tell me
    what  our   love  can   do
                tell     me
         that    red    can      be         blue

tell me
     you  love    me
    tell   me
          you   care
         tell  me  when  i    need     you
             you    will     always     be       there
                   tell   me  
                         to      kiss       you
                             so     we        can        both          fly

                       ­            tell      me,

                                           my           love,

                                                    *the  ­           most            beautiful              lie.

In the dead black sky
I found you
Through the dark grey clouds
You shine through

Gracefully twinkling
That's what you do
Wishful thinking:
you whispered, "I love you."

You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

Never be afraid to make me laugh
Even if over time I ask you to stop
And I tell you you’re making me look older
Just brush that off.
I really do love the wrinkles that you’ve put around my mouth
And when I look at them I see tiny quotation marks
That remind me of all the things I have to say
And that all of those things I say are important enough
For you to quote me on
And as more time passes and those tiny wrinkled quotation marks
Get bigger and bigger and start to blend together around my lips
They’ll look more like parenthesizes
And I’ll really, really love those too
Because they’ll remind me that when I used to have to say, “I love you”
I’ll know that I love you is always implied.