Where is it?
Where did it go?

Could it be that I can't fall in love anymore?
Could it be that I've lost the ability?

Where's that intensity?
That storm of chemicals?
All that anxiety?

Where's the noise?
What's this softness?
Why so much tenderness?

Who am I if I don't have to fight to be loved?

If you think noise is loud
You haven’t been around silence enough

She understood.
She was actually happy.
It finally didn't
Have to be a secret
Anymore
Because she
Understood.
Because she was happy
It could finally
Be said out loud
Be shared and
Be understood.
Too bad it was
Just a dream.

always the poet,
      never the poem.

always the writer,
   never the story.

always the photographer,
   never the picture.

always the dreamer,
   never the dream.

for once...
                  could i be the muse?

the one in the photo,
                                     the poem,
                                                       the story,
                                                          ­              the dream.
or at
         least
                  the
                        inspiration.
­the one
              that
                      would
                                   be held
                                                 in
                                                      memory.

Life is a train bound for the divine,
many souls will get on and off.
Some will reach the last stop,
and others will get off early.
Some will get on by mistake,
and others will sit comfortably.
Enjoy your journey, "and remember to leave your luggage before the end."