call me intense but i have never been one to tiptoe down the side of a mountain
i am like fire to gasoline and you? my latest indie passion scene
a winters night in your sight the moment you let me go
i dont know how to say that you bring out the best in me
i dont know the vocab word for my tongue swelling up emotionally
i want to point to all the posters on my walls and tell you about all the ex lovers that never loved me and never loved this sanctuary half as much as i did
poems like this have always been glazed over and pained through
never thinking that i would need to compare thee to a summers day
because what kind of ******* is that?
you, by far, you are a sunrise, my dear.
you bring the awakening of spring and the deafening of me
you have the power of angels and the weakness of achilles
and so, you wait.
you make your presence known in colors burnt with embers of pain and disdain
like little birds that have yet to leave their nest
unaware of the hate that awaits the entrance of their lives
like a lover's dress, dipped in passion, spinning in endless nights of dazed contentment
synonyms and straining for the right way to say the same three words
i have never been one for fairy tales
but this is a year of firsts it seems