“Poor Harry Gill” I will say never,
Yet what a fate befell that wight:
For dead and buried long, still ever
He shivers morning, day, and night.
And so long chattered all his teeth
That not a tooth his sad mouth owns:
Pass by his plot and hear beneath
The clattering of frigid bones!

O.O

We all stood outside as the building burned away.

Everyone was watching the flames shoot toward the heavens like rockets.

Everyone was watching the bricks crack into pieces, the metal starting to melt, and the windows starting to shatter.

Everyone was watching the building turn to ash.

And I was just watching everyone.

And thinking, "Man, out of all these people, I don't know anyone."

It can get lonely in this world.

Especially when everyone around you is watching a building burn away.

All the while you're burning away on the inside.

her eyes are brown
but when they meet mine
i swear, it's like staring into a kaleidoscope

A certain romantic light plays with my senses the way liquid streets uproot steps random in their dances!
I love it when we smile in lamp-light seconds!
I can always desire you in temporary trances.
A poet at work is like when love strikes with lances!
You calm me in your green meadow romances.
I ask of you, introduce me to the fire of your glances.
At times I need to sleep with the integrity of historical stances.
I will remain myself however lonely in miles or milliseconds. To make a lover out of life is to ask the moon for a dance.
Whether or not she refuses I will continue to love our chances.

Take a breath
breathe in the smoke
Invisible vapors
They choke you, infect you,
they catch you unaware
You don't know
that you're already dead.

You know those kind of nights
when he did something to you
and for some unexplainable reasons
you thought your heart was going to bursts
right before his eyes
because it was full of happiness
then your body heat will horribly rose up
and there's only one thing you could do
to decrease the sparks within you;
you kissed him—deeply—repeatedly
*simply because he loves you too much

Trust in change
in the idea that life is just a range
of experiences that shape us
and chisel our minds
it's up to us
to keep from going blind
trying to label moments
as if our lives are
a story laid out in front of us
and we can see how
we've come to be
but that simply is no way to be free;
willing to be
broken open
burst open
cracked slightly
learning to handle things more lightly
and take the current
where it flows
because you never know
from where beautiful things grow.