My heart weeps at the thought of sunshine.
While April creeps around,
my soul begins to thaw,
for rays of light cause the frozen to abate.  

This winter I thought you were my only sunshine,
But it turns out,
You weren't.

Dandelions are the most independent flower.
They grow where they want.
No one plants them.
They’re free.
They’re infinite.
I felt infinite picking them in the apple orchard with you.
We were free.
We were infinite.  
I couldn't handle my smile watching you,
Rip them out of the earth by the handfuls.
Your face was covered in sunshine and pollen.
It might have been the pollen that resembled sunlight.
Regardless,
You emitted the sun in a way I've never seen before.
I refuse to accept that dandelions are weeds,
Because I want to be a dandelion with you.

Understand me.
Understand me.
Understand me.
Understand.
I’m standing in front of you.
Understand me.

I stood before you,
And you never understood.

I love the way rain looks when it melts the pavement into glass.
All the trees and lights cast back the tangled road.
Looking out the window during a storm
and bringing your eyes from the street
to the window,
all the water droplets move along to their own rhythm like land *****, ending up a puddle in a stage of full maturity.

Plant me and forget about me,
for I am an annual.
I will show up when you haven’t thought about me for a while.
You might remember what color I am,
or you might be surprised that
I’m in fact purple.
You’ll have to get back into the routine of tending to me.
And we’ll have to develop our relationship all over.
I’m merely a fling,
which you’ll go back to every single summer.
I lose my petals after October
and you simply can’t handle that.
You’ll find comfort inside
caring for an exotic cactus you bought in the Home Depot garden section.
Seeing you every day for four months is truly worth it
though.

You came to me in what I thought was a dream,
but it was actually the mundane,
and the secrets my conscious brain,
was keeping from me.

You were a part of reality all along,
it's just taken me a bit to realize it.
Sunlight can be blinding,
and raindrops are more obvious.

I think harmony is one of those things,
that can only be determined from an internal blueprint.
Concepts emerge,
and this reasoning is extracted,
from beautiful objects and ideas.
Simply,
an idea formed,
and              framed
by                        a
grouping           of
other                ideas.

she
he
you
me
they
them

who am i?

Questions
I
Ask
Myself
When
I’m
Unsure

Who I am.

Binary
Binds
Me.
I
Am  
Bound
To
be
Girl.

I am not.

I’m laughing with you.
We sit at my piano
Video media records,
and I have the pleasure of watching us toss our heads back
Breaking neck smiles.
Play back our giggles
Mismatched notes
We don’t search our own accord,
Clash of chords
corded around each key.
Sitting on that bench is wearing socks of different pairs.


I am a fuzzy mid-calf, and you are an argyle knee high.
Socked in laughter.

I've looked up one every moment we've had together, tonight.
My mind Transforms into a theater, while my memories of you construct film.
Being with you feels as though I am walking through novels.
You are my favorite author, a special inspiration.
Every minute consumed of you and me, formulates a new page.
All these occurrences keep me turning, and turning.
Once each portion concludes, Its more I crave.
I guess you can’t spend every waking minute reading.
Do you hear that?
Reality is calling, suffering immediate withdrawal.
It’s inevitably necessary to witness the future and make it a current event.
Because I can not stand the thought of remaining, just, here.
For an instant let me glance further.
Curiosity is flammable.
I'll be sure to tip toe around the words, in hopes of not igniting anything.
I have never been so impatient and selfish.
Have you failed to mention you’re still writing?
Or, was I too deep in my head that instant?
Regardless,
You,
Take your time.
I'll be directing a movie in my mind.

There was a boy who I told no,
No meant yes,
And my cries did not matter.
I have crumbled,
           and stumbled,
               and the matter I once was has turned to dust,
                     dancing away on a cloud somewhere my soul would rather be.

I am humbled by the rain
The way it mingles and manages
With every tree
And pocket between leaves.

I am honored
To be collected and covered
With each available drop
As I make my way outside.

I am humbled.
I am honored.

I am wet.