i don't remember the second name of the girl i first loved.
nor do i remember the colour of her eyes.
i don't remember what it was that made me fall so hard for her,
or what her first words were to me.
i don't remember how she smells or what brand of cigarettes she smoked or how her hair felt beneath my fingertips.
or how her lips tasted in the morning
or what we spent long nights arguing about.
i don't remember these things when i'm surrounded by newer, better people; or when i'm drinking coffee on a Sunday mornings.

but ever so often the world goes quiet and the newer people disappear into the outside world and i remember it all.
i wish i didn't, but i do.

Their is a disease inside her soul
The kind that nothing can fix
It spreads and grows till theirs nothing left
No secret worlds inside of her, no halos floating round her head
The angels she used to live by
Have been replaced by the devil
Ripping and clawing its way inside
Sparing no expense
To ruin every bit of light
Now all that´s left is black
Her heart has turned to ice
Her once kind words used sparingly, and laced with hidden meaning
She has turned into a mystery
Her past left in the past

Too mean for the Angels
Too nice for the Devils
Hovering in the land of inbetween
I can't help but see what is meant to be unseen
It's not a mistake
It's a miscalculation of human proportions
I don't want to fall into the desert late each night
I'd rather die by the heat than by the quiet.

We --- were --- together.
Fate wedged a sickle in between.
I lean on it still, neck exposed,
Ready to forfeit everything.
With uncertainty I am devout.
Because of our closeness
I am unable to retract from the blade,
So ready to inflict grievances.

I feel the intent of the hungering edge,
Wondering which of us holds the handle.
I am just another fool
With little to offer another, given
The greater half of my being
Belongs to you.
My heart, a possession on your shelf
Gathering dust.

Love, you are my favorite poetry
Your life is my favorite story
But nothing can ever come close
To our beautiful on-going story
Written by our author up above
Love is too weak of a word
Love is only a fraction
Of what I feel for you
Its beyond love, you see
Its beyond every mystery
That this universe holds
Every word combined
Is not enough
To tell you
How you make me feel

You are beautiful
as an endless garden path
you are the air under butterfly wings
your hair wiggles in the wind
like a ticklish child
the blue sky opens the oceans in your eyes
a smile that stretches far and wide
like rolling hills
and the chubby clouds
that gather and talk about the weather
You are joy!