One star from the innumerable has fallen
But I will not let it die
The beauty and the memory shall not depart
In mine heart will it dine  
The seed has fallen from the sky
And my tears have watered the ground in which it will root
The soil is fertile now
And everything you have planted in me will surely grow

I know she plays to win
That's how she won me over
I tried to impress her
But she already fell for another

Last year I learned how to let go
But I kept doing it over & over
When do I learn to express myself
Before I forever suppress myself.

I feel
the burn in my chest,
as the sunny dream chops its edges
I run happy warming up in La vita è bella,
while the soles of my feet are burning
into the dark earth. Who cares? only
into the dark earth roots grow,
all lilac is still there at the Moscow Metro, while illusion succumbs to temptation running faster and harder,
the underworld has a life of its own,
a life of greater depth and purity, while
my eyes touch the cold striking murals, and
the book falls on the
Whisper

I can’t tell you why I’m writing this.
I can tell you that it feels right.
I’m listening to your record to get a feel for you and I’m lighting coffee scented candles to help me miss you more clearly. I’m scared to write.
I miss you so much sometimes.
Even when you’re right next to me.
It’s annoying.
I always doubt myself around you.
I think you think I call you pretty too much.
You are so ******* pretty.
I feel distant, but then you look up at me and I’m reminded that I am an idiot for missing someone so near to me.
Then I think of how ******* lucky I am.
And how perfect you are.
And I go home and light candles and write of how I wish I had the guts to say “I love you.”
And how I wish I had the guts to believe that you would say it back.
You can call me a coward for putting it in writing, but it’s still true.
I love you.

You fit so perfectly in my arms. Holding the world together was never so enjoyable. And your coffee colored eyes look so beautiful when you stare back at me. I try to count your freckles, but I get too easily distracted by the millions of other things that make you so ******* stunning. The collision of your kiss leaves me so breathlessly happy, and I look dumb as **** after. I think of you during storms. I think of you all the time. And I can't think of a better way to daydream without you waltzing into my mind. You are my blissful summer nights. You are my adorable best friend. You are my coffee shop daydreams. You are my everything.

Writing highly of you is almost becoming competitive.
Its must feel good reading poem after poem about how perfect you are.
I hope that mine live up to the standards that they have all set.
They all talk of how you radiate joy.
Of how your little actions mean the world.
They aren't wrong.
A smile from you leaves me longing for the sight of you all day.
A giggle, and my heart skips a beat, fluttering to the tune of your joy.
The melodic words that spill from your pen seem to be tattooed all over my body, running along my sides and up and down my arms until the strands of black ink meet on the spot above my heart.
The breathtaking collision of your kiss sends my fears and worries and little insecurities away to a far off place, never to be seen when your smile is in my thoughts .
it’s safe.
it’s bliss
it’s everything.

Thank you

You gave me a rose today.
It sits in my room wilting patiently.
Slyly pouring salt in the wound.
And what strikes me most is the symmetry.
how it sits dying so beautifully,
how it stands tall through all the pain,
how it's petals crash onto the floor like my knuckles into my wall,
and how it makes me smile so easily.
A nice gesture,
falling somewhere between a torture and a romance.

Bella, Bella – it’s a felony:
Writing verses bland and trite;
Breathing rhymes – tumultuous, mellow –
In your honor: quite a rite.

Bella, Muse in any language,
Any age and any land…
Bella! – Art for you, I wager,
Carries spirit, beauty, flare.

Be they poems, songs or novels,
Be they novel, classic, both -
Far above the comets hover,
Doing justice to our voice,

To your eyes, their depth, your soul…
You’re my soul’s sole Muse -
To inspire, to console;
Magic, power, love infuse…

Bella, Bella, no halo -
But angelic, wicked, real.
Voice more musical than cello,
Hands that send your passions reeling.

Ears elvish, lips of cherry,
You’re a girl devoid of lies,
No prize more dearly cherished -
Than to look into your eyes.