i.*
This is to you; pretty lady with the long brown hair, shiny brown eyes, and a heart of gold. You don't see the beauty that radiates from you whenever you enter the room, nor the happiness that you bring to people with your awkward sayings and amazing laugh. But everyone else that surrounds you does. Your meaning here on earth is more than what you think it is. You're a gift to all who come in contact with you, like a little present that we get everyday. You could be described as a pearl, something so precious that if one finds one, they should never let go of it nor lose it. That is what you are like. A pearl. Nothing less.

The way you hold yourself after the hand that you have been dealt over the past few years is great. You are a warrior. No matter what anyone ever tells you. These things that are burdening you, you can overcome. Every battle that you have gone through has molded you into this person that you are today, words cannot begin to describe the greatness that is within you, that everyone else sees.

Every time I see you, walking in the halls, coming towards me, brings a smile to my face. Your presence brightens my day, no matter how bad it is going. The way you tell a story, so animated, so full of life and excitement, but yet I still see the sadness that remains in your eyes day after day. However, you still make sure that I laugh each day, no matter how ****** you feel. These things that you do for the people that you care so deeply about, are never ending.

This one is for you pretty lady. Let your wings spread and fly and be free.  Go and travel the world, and let everyone else see everything that we see within you already, so that one day you see it also.

Step one
Just take a little love
Call it just a flicker of
Family stuff
And spread to everyone one

the moon that we share
will always outshine the clouds
that separate us.

I hesitate to let the bottom of my foot hit this dusty ground.
Every step is blind with no map or direction.
But it's grace that is undeniable and love that is unstoppable.
Onward you whisper, go.
No matter if I'm empty, sinking, or half dead, your hand remains so gentle on the small of my back.

Have you ever been afraid to write?
Almost like you don't want to feel what you would write about?
Yet at the same time you're craving it?

I want to write,

I want to write about the offset piece of sidewalk outside her house
     that I always managed to trip over no matter how many times I had
     before promising I would never trip again.
I want to write about how I would drive the long way to get to where I
     was going for months after we broke up just so I could pass the road
     leading to her house just to have a chance of seeing her, even if she
     never noticed me.
I want to write about how I'm afraid I'll never feel the static race down
     my spine when I kiss someone ever again because after she left no
     kiss has ever managed to spark anything inside of me.
I want to write about how I sat for hours on the ledge where we first
     kissed because I could let my tears fall down off the cliff like rain
     that I hoped would water the ground enough for a flower to grow so
     if she ever came back she would have something almost as beautiful
     as her to see there waiting.                                    
I want to write about how I now understand how Jesus could die for
     people who hated him because even though she hates me,
     I begged God to forgive her, because she knew not what she did to
     me.

But I don't write any of it,
Because I’m afraid to feel like that again,
Because It's pathetic,
Because I'm afraid she will see it,
Because it's not love,
It's poetry.

And no matter what her reply was,
it's still poetry.
And even though I don't love her anymore,
she’s still my stanza,
And I'm trying to find a new poem to write.