Agape
Not a transient love,
Hopefully
a permanent future
Leave
but don't really go
Unless
you make me a promise
Stay
inside my heart, at least

You are the star of my heart:
Celestial body turned into my core,
    like a work of fine art
Be it your visage, your void, or maybe even your touch
Like gravity, each little thing somehow pulls me closer in love
In my heart I know that you may go black,
    but when you do just know that it would only serve to bring me
    closer to you.

The place where our hearts know true content
Land of dream, steeped in our own fantasies
Bed of innovation, where it is ourselves we reinvent
As we dance in the feeling of natures melodies

There is magic in the woods that flows
     into the stream of our veins
A supernatural feeling akin to the land of fae
Mystique and awe, like aloe, soothe our pains
And although our time is fleeting,
     the memories forever stay

We often seek solace in the bog together
Fall into the forest as we grow into each other
Hoping to grasp at a brief moment of forever
Blissfully unaware of our reality or any other

bubbling lava
burning
just to come up and taste the surface

a diver in too deep
screaming
just to gulp the delicious air

Once I let a tear out
I can't stop.

like trying to put  broken glass back together again--

the scattered shards skillfully restructured
into a perfect whole;
but not so perfect, really.
the straggling seams where the shards were restructured
are still perfectly in sight.

When I start thinking,
I don't do much of it.
Mostly, it's just a process of falling and crawling and searching through the hidden levels of my consciousness.
I begin falling
            
                falling

                      falling.
I'm lost.
Lost like that stray kitten that wanders around the docks just waiting for someone to come and save it. Lost like the sound of the wind as it passes through the bare winter trees.
Save.
Save doesn't have to be physical.
It doesn't need to be physical or typical or some mystical miracle.
It can be as simple as an "I understand."
                      or a "You can talk to me."
You can cry with your head on my shoulder and when your words run out and you can no longer express yourself through creating any sound I will still listen to your silence.

Because I do understand and you can talk to me. And sometimes all someone needs is a hand to pull them up through all those secret levels and tell them;

I understand. Just take my hand.
I promise to be your rubber band and snap you back.
I will be the cord tethering you to the bridge as you dive off and start falling.
Falling.
Falling until the ground stops approaching and slows into a concrete existence.
Falling until that familiar tug of my compassion draws you back up.
I'm found.

They're like prison bars guarding the windows to your soul.
         The soul you don't think is deserving of freedom but
         I think is worthy of everyone to see and to meet and
         to love.
They're like white picket fences caging the wild horses of your personality.
         the horses you think to be too feral to be let loose but
         I think should be released so that people could know
         you like I wish I did.

the rain is calming
as it patters the rooftops and feeds the hungry perrenials;
and as the beads can no longer defy the pull of gravity fall,
                i fall
slowly peacefully gratefully asleep

i fly:
high
above the earth; the ball of dirt in which we exist our lamentable existences
deep
within the corners of my own mind
we think too much.
we think too little.
we don't think at all

about how it will be to no longer bear the burden of carrying this burden--
   these burdens--
conscience
responsibility

but we should--
reality is a scary place
                   flying becomes sinking
                   flying becomes drowning
                   flying fades to thinking
our days are numbered

the rain is calming
as it burdens us to think about life and learning

the rain is calming