There you are.
Hundreds of miles away from me.
Yet when I hear your voice through my phone.
It feels as you are right next to me.
I think of you laying next to me.
Holding me as I sleep.
And I can feel every curve of you against me as though you are really there.
Oh how I love our midnight talks.
Confessing every detail of ourselves.
Telling things no one else knows.
And though I love it.
I would do anything for you to really be here.
I don't know how to live without you next to me.
You are my everything.
My other half.
My wish upon a shooting star.
You are the dream non compare to.
If only I could see you.
Hug you for one moment.
I know my world would be okay.
I know my smile would finally shine.
I can't wait to see you.
Finally be able to hold you.
And kiss that smile I love so much.
Be able to look into the eyes that hypnotize me.
Oh how I miss you.
How I love you.
I can't wait till I can finally see you.
It's so close to the time.
We're months away.
Weeks away.
Days away.
Moments away.
And now we're here.
With you sitting next to me.

Il y a une route devant moi
À côté du feu
Il faut que je marche
Vite
Il faut que j'aille peur
En espérant de vivre
En essayant de soupirer
Toujours

À côté du feu

I rarely edit my work
I prefer the fresh
green
words that sprout in the moment
There is something disingenuous to me
about letting someone
even a later self
uproot and replant my ideas

My mother wants me to
let the editors inside
she wants me to open my sanctuary
to the norms
the opinions
the pen
of the world

I'm afraid to touch my own words
because god loves ugly
because
I
love ugly
what would happen
if I let
them
touch my thoughts?

I think therefor I am
so if they help me think
am I still?

give me your downcast, your ugly, your broken
the grit and the grime of your teeming mind
I lift    my       pen, I peel back the wool
this is life, there is no golden door of escape

complacency is sickness
have I found it
of from it do I flee?