She's begging to me
through rattling teeth
and broken bones
made of ash.

Her body quivers
as cold wet hair
sticks to her skin.

She is begging for mercy
Dare I deny her of it?

What happened to those
beautiful days?

Even though I know the answer
but my heart keeps denying
that painful phase;

They say the more you try to deny something
The stronger it becomes

Maybe its true
Because the more I try to deny it
The more I fall in love with you

catch feelings
for cute girls,
pretty boys.

fall in love.

deny it.

let them hurt you.
hurt yourself, mostly.

get yourself together,
bring yourself back up.

but **** he's pretty.

May be forget the mouth
But how can I deny the heart?

At your denial you were at your creative all-time-best as you added vivid detail that distracted and buried the facts beneath a story that captured our imagination rather than releasing the truth of the situation and risking the shame of a truer declaration lying a few lines beneath your masterly woven but ultimately deceptive late night conversation.
And you left us none the wiser.

the moon demanded our attention
it radiated glowing rings
through a shimmering mist

your eyes were filled with magic
endless glistening stars
captivating every inch of me

the moon had a message
that could not be ignored
despite our efforts to suppress

as certain as the moon is pure and true
there was a profound storm afoot
a downpour

i took a long and deep breath
ensuring that every bit of the cleansing air
became a part of me

i fell into a deep and heavy sleep
the rhythm of the raindrops and the beat of the pounding thunder
composed a lullaby like no other

but, i was pulled out of my heavenly slumber
it was time to wake up and reclaim control
try to find comfort in the wisdom of the weatherman

surely his knowledge eclipses the moon's eloquence
the genuine peace from a lullaby
and the exquisite magnetism between souls

Back in July
you crossed my mind
And ever since
you never left
A slow, slow process
I can't deny
I fall for those eyes
every time
A few words
of which confessed
Blah blah blah
I'm still obsessed

My favorite gift
is tied tightly around my wrist.
A simple word etched that reminds me
of how my daughter perceives me to be.
This word will forever be my battle-cry.
My 'strength' I can't deny.