While she wants you to fall in love with her skin, be more focused on the stars in her eyes. Connecting the constellations to her heart, and falling in love with her mind.

You were something to do
like cracking peanuts or chewing gum
(Hands and mouths,
not hearts and minds)
But shells are messy,
and flavor is easily lost
You must sweep up
and spit out

Another broken clock
Not a metaphor

Pity the fool who does
not believe words can
change lives

Legs, they yearn themselves
Up hills and into monasteries,
Plagued by the dissipation of the evening light,
The trees, they know how little it means
To live as a man,
They burn with dissipation of the evening

And we've seen you in silks,
In robes, in crowns, in power-suits,
And we've seen you quoting scripts,
God's will, divine rights, free market grants,

And it's the bones of the world,
And it's the chalk of the child,
And it's the nature of regret

And it's the grind of the drill,
And it's the blood in the mud,
And it's the nature of regret

And it's the phlegm in the lungs,
And it's the waste of the heart,
And it's the nature of regret

Sometimes, I leave my room
And idle on buses and trains
Pushing forth, devoid of meaning,

Sometimes I plug myself
Into retreats of tweets,
Scrolling idly through the evening

And it's the boots in the mud
And it's the wire in the blood,
And it's the myths we create
For ourselves

And it's the buildings hollowed out
And it's the music without space
And it's the drones circling around        
                                                      (Pakistan­i vistas and towns.)

Trees, they know how insignificant
It is to live as a man,
For this, they'll burn,

It is the nature of regret.

It's A Coincidence She Made It Out Of My Thoughts.

Alive.

At 2 in the morning,

I could’ve been dancing the night away at some club.

I could be drinking all the Stellas

and flirt with other fellas.

After that, I could rest easy at a Figaro

and avoid another hangover

But nope…

Here I am now,

in a house as silent as ever

While the clubs are surely playing loud house music

And instead of playing the party girl I once was

I now reveal myself as a writer as  I have always been

It just seems to come more naturally

The voices, the colors, the vibe in my head

are louder than any party at this time

The downside is…

LONELINESS

It never actually goes away, really

But partying could surely hide it

unlike writing at 2 in the morning

When everything I try to forget

just hits me harder than ever

Opportunity strikes when you least expect.
Even when you feel you don't deserve it's respect.

When all seems lost and you can't see the light,
And all you have to go on is the hope that this is right.

Be strong. Be true. Cast away all the fear and doubt.
There's good in you. The darkness can't keep it out.

Be afraid of the failure, the weakness, and the end.
Embrace it not as the enemy, the obstacle, but as a friend.

Numb to the world, you can never get away.
Numb to your soul, you can never heal the pain.

This golden opportunity, a chance, a rebirth.
Provided by the Heavenly Father, not by this earth.

Though faith may be weak, and you feel that this is wrong.
Carry on with hope. For in truth, it won't be long.