His words ripped through the remnants of her shattered mind,
Winding through jagged edges of time.
They found old wounds, still gaping and wet.
They dove through her anger, loss and regret.
They flittered through tears and flinched through her pain,
And stumbled through roadblocks of distrust and disdain.
She felt herself wince in nostalgic regret,
These words that she remembered to always forget.
She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
She stuttered and paused but still verbal drought.
For a moment a tear tried to fight it's way through,
But couldn't escape her practical view.
Had she remembered too much or forgotten too few?
With a forced sense of pride, she prayed for reprieve,
A sigh, a laugh, for the tension to ease.
He stared at her, longing, his heart on his sleeve,
To know that his words she surely believed.
But silent she stood, her eyes drifting in doubt,
Knowing the words just wouldn't come out.
No matter the way she traveled at last,
It wasn't to him that her path was attached.
The regret in her voice was heavy and thick,
As she parted her lips to deliver it quick.
"My dear, my heart was never true...and sadly I can't say I Iove you too."

The longer that I live and breathe
The fewer tears I give to grieve
The tears that well are tears of joy
For life and love and all they employ
The tears I cry are not from pain
Not the result of loss or gain,
Not the kind shed in vain
For I cannot force a tear to fain
That which my heart cannot explain.
So don’t cry for me, my love, refrain,
For crying for me can bring only blame,
Of sincere remorse or bitter shame
Don’t let your heart grieve for the sake of my name
My tears are from joy…let yours be the same.

To conquer the world we mustn’t submit to staking its highest peak.
Claiming the spot from where you must fall
Leaves echoes of words no one hears you speak.
To conquer the world and its shallow depths
Is to surpass its limits.
To need not always to unveil
But rather sense the gimmicks.
To learn when we need to gather
Or when we need to grow,
Not follow but be guided by instinctive ebb and flow.

Then the climbing is the conquering,
The method is path,
No hope to unravel a grand design,
But embrace not needing a map.

I often find my epiphany

As it flutters its way on by,

Never enough time to examine its beauty

But  long enough to always try.

If I cannot see where it went,

Nor from whence it came,

How will I know the time it spent,

To make me never the same?

Was its intention as fleeting as its visit?

Was its motive just to change?

Was its value more than intrinsic?

Was its goal simply to rearrange?

I tire myself with questions,

I bore myself with doubt.

So fly on by, you slick butterfly,

Your epiphany I’m better without.

How intriguing the thought
of serendipitous chance
A fortunate omen of sudden romance

Through glass and fog of distance and time
A like-minded, almost kindred affinity
brings a new effervescence to the presumed absurdity

If time was a place, located by thought
The distance that breeds connection
Is simply the means to the desired perfection

How gracious and bold that time must be
To create such a lasting attraction
Where an end seems a pity, a waste, an infraction

The balance of forces that compels the unseen
Opens closed minds to new perspectives
And clouds the indignant, old and tired objectives

Misplaced emotions and volatile benevolence
Lead to perpetual indecision, and wasted dreams
Where the goal is unattainable and sacrificed for schemes

Pondering the options that are created as such
Lead to open possibilities of endless means
Where whimsical notions are an effortless tease

How long the path winds and curves to sight
The ingenious and recondite plot of the teller's tale
Unbeknownst to those who may leave it for fail
Thickens more as it turns and toils
Breeding excitement, adventure and a life all its own
To be nurtured, or kept, or ever grown.

My eyes are heavy, bloodshot and weary.
And the thought of you, I smile.
My head aches and my joints stiff.
And the thought of you, I smile.
Learning I have much to learn
and knowing I know nothing
Allows me time to just enjoy
All that has made this something
I fear I cross a line
with any proclamation
As its never been our design
To hold an expectation
I simply wanted you to see
In the purest form I know
That you are always a breath of air
And the warmth behind my glow
Wherever you go, and whomever with
I hope you understand
That even though it may never last
Or be lost should life demand
All that is you, is never lost
On my always willing heart
And should a day reveal itself
And serendipity map a chart
I hope that you consider me
As I always have you
And these simple words I choose to write
Could never be more true

A woman whose heart is left to break

Is a woman with whom her heart she’ll take

To protect her love from that choice of fate

Because deserving are those she wont forsake. 

For she’ll always love enough to make

Over and over, the same mistake.

No idle verse or lonely pen
Could match my true emotion
Of the soldier resting here,
Of his honor and devotion.

A fateful day in June,
A decade or so ago
My life and love were forever changed,
As I watched you turn to go.

Young and naïve am I, I know
But sacred was your part
Inspiration’s cruel irony,
On an unsuspecting heart.

I knew not from where I came,
I knew not where I should go
But you believed that I could be
The person I now know.

A friend I always knew in you,
A lover couldn’t be,
A wish that maybe “one day”
Would be waiting patiently.

I’ll never know the reason,
Perhaps I never should,
Yet, I’ll never love another,
As we may have loved...if we only could.

I say a nightly prayer for you,
And give a daily smile,
For a soldier and a friend,
For a fight that was worthwhile.

Rest in peace, my dearest love
And know that forget, I couldn’t do.
All of the blessings I’ve known in life,
The greatest of all is to have known you.

When your opinion is only given to get a little fame
When your morals are determined by causing another shame
When your methods and your motives lie in placing blame
Well my friend, don't be surprised when all you become is a name.

I have yet to read any of the Harry Potter books, 50 Shades of Grey, or Twilight series. Nor have I heard the song from Frozen, watched The Passion of Christ or anything Tyler Perry has created, post-Madea. I am fine with this.

I STILL do not posses the ability to play video games, listen to dub step, hold a conversation with anyone about zombies, or sit through a scary movie without covering my eyes for at least 40% of it. Believe me, I’ve tried. I am fine with this.

I’m notorious for reading the last chapter first in love stories, but wouldn’t dare ruin a good suspense novel. I’m fully aware of my naïveté…and at times, it’s blissful. Others, terrifying. I am fine with this.

I know that there are some things I’ll never understand. Things I’ll never be amused by, interested in or infatuated with. But when I see my adorable, tattooed, army veteran, mans man of a boyfriend in the backyard pulling a line of strings for the cats to play with…I am fine with this.