Thought I was swimming in high levels of emotions
Till I stood up to find it wasn't even knee high
How deceptive the heart can be to throw such illusions
Can't even trust it sometimes
Even my own mind plays tricks on me
Only when I stood still In the emotions I used to swim in
was I able to let the truth in by letting it reflect back at me
So shallow they were that I was able to see my own two feet
Oh no, I guess it really wasn't that deep...

The mud has settled and I can see myself again, shining, still with ravens in my eyes
I guard my heart, balancing the light and the dark
Trying not to tilt for too long on one side

I don't want no mediocre love,
give me more of a 1 corinthians 13.
I need to know you'll draw nearer when heavy or small storms come,
not lose your sh*t, get scared of the thunder and leave.
See, love is a learning thing and we'll need water for it to grow,
we can't just plant our seed, walk away and expect it to grow on its own.
We've gotta clear the pathways, rewire and connect inside our domes, because without communication we'll both feel as if we're all alone.
But if forever can be seen within the roots, then no storm will ever be hard to get through.
I said it's all about forever, it's all about the roots.
If they're deep enough then there's no storm that will be too rough, and love will not be moved.
So give me that 1 corinthians 13 and we'll till the ground and build from a strong foundation.
Any other type just won't feel right, and will only be wasting our time.

It's the balance that keeps.
One way of perceiving just won't do,
so slow it all down to get a different point of view.
I know that things won't stay the same because this world is always changing; the joy inside this pain will assist the growth.
So I draw close to the most high and meditate on his word and cope,
healing in time by widening the scope.

The marriage of pen to paper gives birth to poetic imagery.
So full of life that its authentic nature can be felt every time you read.
My heart nurtured in its soil so deep that my mind thinks poetically. Aligned with the body and soul, I become poetically whole.

I'll be sending my thoughts on the waves of wind, to get to you.
Letting my tongue rest and silence do what my voice can't seem to do.

How can the sun exist without the moon?
In mid winter you made it feel as if it were June.
Must've been a dream tho because I feel the cold and the snow now.
People catch me from time to time twirling  round hugging myself outside in stormy weather.
I have to keep reminding myself to pry open my eyes and realize that we're not together.
I must be crazy every time, but I'll be crazy till every feeling is left in every line, till I can look back and smile but for now the Poet in me weeps like a child to not have what I once had.
I'm as blue as the ink that pours out of this pen, I'll be drowning in it pretty soon.
You said that I was your sun, so how can the sun exist without the moon?

I lost my appetite last night when I saw the love fade in her eyes,
even though the mood was set just right, actions spoke louder than words.
Why am I even here with her?
Under dim lights with candles that surround, there's a one man band in the background strumming his guitar but I can't even hear its sound.
Nothing much is said but everything is felt, she treats me like a stranger and those tears only fool herself.
A little bit more silence, the lack of eye contact tells it all, she puts her glass to her lips as the tears fall and fall.
Why am I even here with her?
This wine has gotten bitter. Oh, someone please come bring my check cuz her cold heart is giving me the shivers and there's nothing more left to be said.
This is not how I imagined it, no it's not how I thought it would be.
It cost me alot to sit face to face, but for her, dinner was free.

There's nothing left to say that hasn't already been said.
This love is growing cold,
eventually it'll be dead.
So I'm letting go before it kills me,
before I can never love again,
and to you I say goodbye my lover, goodbye my best friend...

I'm just a stranger...
even a ghost I could be.
Lingering around, hoping that the sound of my voice can bring back memories of me.
Not even a whisper sounds familiar, and my touch that used to reach becomes frozen, then my heart shatters to the ground.
They should call you Mrs. Freeze.

There are times I fall so deep in dreams, I have to break my own heart just to open my eyes.
Upon return, the world feels so different to me, as if someone has sped up time.
As I journey through the mazzaroth, I learn more about the signs, all while learning how to balance mine at the same time.