And my friends are delicate even with steel breast plates and glass eyes that dazzle on nights where the moon comes out to join us.

And my friends wear crowns to show their worth but others forget that it tears into their skin making them bleed from beaten thoughts and overactive brains.

And my friends don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Their hearts are trapped in rib cages beating melancholy tunes into themselves when life is bleak and time grows long.

And my friends can love into death the beauty of hands and flowers- the world on their shoulders and the photographs in their skulls breed truth and hope in people’s good intent and adventure.

And my friends are a whole other universe strung with the same thread that can’t break because their soil is strong and their garden nourishes all.

And my friends are timeless, classic, radical souls that leave your house painting crooked and your eyes wide.

And my friends don’t know that. But now they do.

Our bodies ******* as we become one.
You trace the outline of my spine.
Subtle kisses.
Lost in endless time.
Take the last hit of no regrets.
As your morals run out.
Like the last drop of Jack.
Sweet scent of seduction.
Gentle becomes violent.
Afterwords you lay in that bed.
Nicotine regret fills the room.
Until you finally rest your head.
Accept your beautiful mistake.

I should have warned you that day we met
But I never knew how great this love would get
And now I've hurt you
Something I'll never forget

So please let me stay
In your arms one finally day
I don't want you to leave
But I fear you'll go your separate way

These tears run down my face
With a quicker and quicker pace
I know they're my fault
I'm such a disgrace

It was wrong, I know that's true
But please remember I still love you
I know you're hurting
But I am too

I made a mistake
And I see your heart, I did break
Because I was weak
You stepped on the brake

Now you've left me wondering
If this love is ending
I can't change the past
Please let me try and do some mending

Breathing in that familiar smell of sweet coffee that screams Starbucks i sit quietly inside....alone..but actually, i am accompanied by some cheap elevator music which closely resembles country, and my grande cup of thoughts. This grande cup feels more like a thousand grande cups: a possy almost. This possy fills the empty Starbucks with small talk and the soft murmur that many people usually create. This possy keeps me way more company than any other living breathing flesh.

The thought that sits closest beside me is my mask that i purchased before i could pick out my favorite colored sweater. I wear this mask every day of my life although not always at own will. its hard to admire whats staring back you every morning when your cards dont match the ones on screen. It goes like this, i feel as if i had horse like pony tail hair crawling down my black so silky and taking a skydive at my *** would make it a HELL of a lot easier to wear this mask of mine in which has the title of: MY FACE.
But what is it about the crystal blue eyes that show the rhythm of the ocean or the solidity of the sky? WHAT is it about the deep forest green or the eyes that you can see more than just the sky that is so appealing? HAVENT YOU HEARD??
"THE DARKER THE BERRY THE SWEETER THE JUICE?"

So why does it seem the whiter the paper the more in favor. the blonder the hair the greater the fair, you seem to have in life. MAYBE its the recommendations in which the tv inscribes for us. Maybe its the runway that draws the rules of beauty.
The twiggier the prettier
the fatter the more laughter you receive from people who dont even know
your ****
name.
As I stare at the reflection and into the deep pools of confusion I fish out decent..and different,
but not pretty. I never arrive at the adjective pretty when i look at the reflection staring back at me but
does it ever occur that i do not strive to be merely pretty but something more.
DO NOT and i mean DO NOT EVER
slap a label onto my forehead titled pretty.
dont slap the sticker of cute either.
find another **** sticker
that you can not find at a store, this sticker is so original that it doesn't exist, its so intricate, considered more than an antique
for I AM MORE THAN A MISSION TO ARRIVE TO PRETTY.

Do not look into my cage where I sing and call me beautiful- for its funny how that so called gift seems to be nothing but a mere sample at a beauty supply. Im not a biscuit for you cant butter me up and salt me down for ill never be your favorite dish you can take a bite out of for comfort. I am more than just a piece of meat for I am more than just an adjective for you will not be able to pick up a dictionary and collect the word that fits me best.

I am more, WE are more, we cant be thrown into a binder full of women---no, for no binder is large enough to hold the complexity of just
one. woman.

Listen to the sound, and loose it, its sweet music, and dance with me, for there is beauty in the world so much beauty in the world. But we put a parental block on it we ignore that ad
we throw away that piece as if they are the unwanted leaves to the strawberry,
or the peel to the banana---we drive by that ordinary girl.

We sadly fail to realize-fail to notice the blue skies, notice the butterflies, but you will NOT fail to notice me.
Now, Starbucks is full-full of other rocky mountain climbs and terrible tumbles. It has become a pool of not only coffee...but pools and pools and rivers and seas,
of insecurities.

even after all this time, your still, quiet form slumbering beside me never ceases to amaze me, those long eyelashes, longer than the length of my thumbnail, fluttering against my cheek still make my heart quiver, the essence of you lingering on my lips hasn’t failed to stay sacred to me.  all this time & the simple happenstance of your perpetuate presence warms me to the core.  i cannot, have not, will never take you for granted, not when your soothing silence is as captivating as when you speak, not when you are the most breathtaking discovery i continue to make day by day by day.  you have taught me how to savor, drink my coffee in slow sips sluicing down my throat, the pauses between swallows made for languid eye contact with you.  you have laid me down & loved me to breathy, shivering pieces, we have charted the topography of one another’s bodies with needing fingers, a little more “touch me” than i knew i could feel.  my head always races in labyrinthine circles but you slow it to a halt with your lips & skin & brimming heat.  i mean, maybe i’m a little broken, maybe even a lot, but with you, i don’t mind so much anymore.

He told me he stopped smoking.
Threw away the packs of Mayfair
into the river next to his house.
The river where we once spent the evening
talking about why stars align the way they do,
As if they know what they are doing.
Neither of us knows what we are doing.

We are tea stained maps,
And fragile lungs,
And he is bruised fingertips from writing ‘I don’t love you. I’m sorry.’
I am shallow breaths in early winter.
Waking up at five to five to wait for the sun to rise.

He is made of sugar cubes
And campfires;
Glowing in the dead of the night
As if they have a right
To be the main attraction.
We are 3am scribbles in notebooks

And origami warriors.
You folded me so easily
With your piano playing fingers.
And when I wasn’t looking,
You made me into a boat and pushed me onto that same river.
Lit matches for a sail and finally, let me burn.

It’s funny how these things end
Love stories and happy endings
I’ve never been the sappy romantic
And from the beginning I could have never predicted
These feelings that have grown just for you
A place in my heart that beats uncontrollably
With a ferocity unmatched by any others
Already I know I’ve become the fool to be duped
Sometimes I get scared
Sometimes I get lonely
Sometimes I get confused
And then I remember the day you held me
And you said, “We’ll be okay”
I’ve watched you carry your burdens
You’ve seen me shoulder mine
We’ve not always been the closest of friends
No secret bond to share in the closet of skeletons
No fleeting glances that could be hidden
No secret love that has been written
We’re not Romeo and Juliet
But when you walk by I still find myself smiling
I tell myself I’m not meant to feel
Not like this
And not for you
So I have to lock my heart and thoughts away
To a place where no one may see my dismay
I tried to fight it
Tried to ignore it, pretend like you weren’t right there in front of me
Too afraid to voice my feelings
Too afraid to not be loved
Maybe one day though I’ll find the courage
To live with just being friends
Just talking could be a start
Laughing and joking
I could be okay
Never asking for more
Still I’ll always find myself hoping
In the shadows of the stars
That you’ll grab my hand and smile
Before leaning in to whisper
Will you be mine?