I want to be a poet.
To have words
so forthcoming
so forlorn
so foreign
that they strike
your ears perked
and echo
beyond
the white noise
that surrounds us

I want to pour mountains
in to your eyes
so tamed
but so enticing,
and always just a little
bit beyond your reach.

I want to be a generator
and fill you up
when i see your eyes
being to fall below
your depression.

I want to brush my fingers across
the bits of skin
that stick out
and make you squirm
but cause you to smile like
when you see the sun
for the first time
after a rain storm.

I want to be the wind that
runs across your collar
causing you to turn
closer to me.
I want to collect your warmth
in a jar
and carry it in my knapsack
so when I need
a totem
to get me through the day
I can open up
a little bit of you.

I want to capture
that glimmer in your eye
that tells me I am worth
so much more than I imagine.
I want to paint you onto
every blank canvas
though no rendition I
could every re-create
would have not even
half of the life
I found in your heart.
But i could try.

I want to be your first drink of water
After being in the heat.
trickle down your throat
like the tickle of a feather
leaving you wanting more
and yet fulfilled at the same time.
I want to be the glove that
fits around your hand
so that I could hold you
all day long
and hold your
heat inside your palm.

I want to be the cloud
that catches your attention
Finding shapes in me
connecting the lines I
have lost along the way.
I want to be the snowflake
that sits on your eyelashes
as they bat up and down
fluttering the kisses
of a butterfly to every
passerby.

i want to be an island
in the middle of your sea.
isolated but not alone
because I am surrounded by you.
I want to be the wave that breaks
upon your *******,
playful banter
between the ocean and the sand
swirling in all directions
together we twist in the tide.

I want to be something to you
other than just another girl
that caught your eye
that night.
I want to matter
instead of just
be matter.

I want to be a song
That you can never stop singing
because even though you've
heard me one too many times
You are still so caught.

But now I am
the yellow light that turned red
right as you approached the intersection.
We were not made to go
in the same direction.

I want to be yours.

But everyone knows the problem
with star-crossed lovers
is that
they only cross once

right?