i want it to not make much sense
when we kiss and
because we are birds

i want you to be a confusing yet very welcome heart
because we are birds flying in an evening sky and
it is hard to see in the dark

i want our bodies to touch in a mysterious. way
i want you to care for me
i want to love you (and i do)

When I saw you in your casket, it brought tears to my eyes.
You died two years ago today on the thirteenth day of July.
When the doctors said that your illness was terminal, I didn't want to believe that it was true.
But sadly, they were correct and two years ago today, we lost you.

From 1975 to 2010 you worked at Woodcraft, you worked with lumber.
People may think that I'm crazy because I believe that 13 is an unlucky number.
You died on the thirteenth year of the century and also on the thirteenth day of July.
You took Chemotherapy treatments for months and two years ago today, you died.

The stars are falling off my ceiling.

I'm paying bills,
Buying college books,
Saving for a car,

And the stars are falling off my ceiling.

My calendar is full
Marked with appointments
And work hours

And the stars are falling off my ceiling.

My friends are getting married,
Having children,
And buying houses,

And the stars are falling off my ceiling.

Like the child
In my heart
Is emaciating,

I'm twenty years old,
And the stars are falling off my ceiling.

i'm wanting
like hard brittle things
want to break

stuttering, trying to explain
to the organized, box trained
how badly i need a little chaos

cause those patterns out there
in the stars
make way more sense to me
than your day planners

And i've tried.
half my life i've tried
the people pleasing parts of me, still ******* trying
to play the expected parts
so much so
that my own offspring - my own blood
looks at me now with foreign eyes
reflecting the familiar disapproval

as I burn up the parts of me i'm done with
the parts they told me I had to be
letting all the "ugly" colors bleed through

everyday I get a little closer
to what i'm supposed to be...

This is an application of love
penned by the one who seek a place in your heart.
These are thoughts from my inmost desire
that arose the very moment I set eyes on you.
My real and undying love
have been thematically written here
and mine words are of lasting scents
and pleasures....
please read in Love's accent...

Flame to be tasted,
A carnal sunrise devours;
Likewise, she weeps hate.

"what's this hug for?"
"because you're the kind of person who handles heartache better than illness and i don't know about you but that kinda says a heck of a lot about your character, i hate it. i hate that you've grown accustomed to hurt, it's never not foreign to you anymore."

What if the one that got away came back?*
Well, **** his guts!