It is the shape that your life forms
When you're chasing him and he's chasing you,
But you never get anywhere.
A beautiful thing that was never meant to be.

It is the ring on your finger when you
Don't listen to yourself,
When you think with your heart,
When you assume that
Tomorrow will be kinder.

It is the hole in the wall you want
Your fist to make when you argue again.
It is the tears that stream down your face instead.

It is the way you turn as you look at the stars
And beg for answers, and none ever come.

His hair was like gold silk gently whipping around in the soft breeze
like straw fields of golden harvest
like the fields of so many yesterdays,
so many years in the past,
like a history that lasts
His eyes were blue like pools of a river
black pupils like where it's too deep to see to the bottom,
warm and inviting, do things live there?
his ears so round like the mushroom coming out of the tree
was it medicine or something to eat?
his skin so smooth like silk
glittered in the sunset with golden hue
as the air moved across it like sandpaper
His inner beauty was that of a warrior, and a lover
his courage was strong like a strong man
with torso chiseled and stable frame
his bravery was like the arm of a warrior
bulging and strong and swinging forth
with lightening speed and precision seldom matched
his head was pure with innocence
as he had learned you can do no wrong
thoughts pulsate from his mind like soft white light
heart beating with excellent, soft precision
like a fairy flapping his wings,
his blood was happy
and finally, he moved

From the moment I met you
I knew you were decent
Though not really that innocent
But you were a nice guy
Though you are shy
You still have this charm

Your voice that ain't so manly
Yet for me it was heavenly
Just to hear your voice was enough for me

You may not be the brightest
But among the stars, you are
Your witty answers and logical explanations
These serve as my best inspirations

Your strategic ways
and inspiring plays
They always make my days

I'd wish upon a star
That my love for you
Wont bear a single scar

So honey my dear
I sure do hope everything is clear
Just don't make me bear a single tear
For I might grow in fear
Of your face
That served as my favorite maze
Whenever my emotions are in a haze

your face is like marble
perfectly contoured to reflect your state
an evershifting masterpiece
like sand flowing through an hourglass
time slipped away
and your hair like a beach on a crisp day
your voice like a warm stream
my limbs long to intertwine themselves with yours
like the twisting knarls of an overgrown cedar
growing into one another
and though grainy through pixelated screens
you are beauty
in unconventional ways
the words i use to describe you are mundane
and unsuited to yourself
though the english language could not have the capacity
to encapsulate your beauty in any words
and you are
beautiful i mean
i see you
and i cant believe that i am the one to give you butterflies
when tones buzz
and miniscule letters are recieved
i physically cannot contain my feelings
i do a lap
jump up and down
run anywhere
to try and come to grips with you
and how you feel about me
because the butterflies that i feel when i even think about you
fill me to the brim
and burst out in a sigh
or a squeal
some physical reminder of the way you make me feel
like a young mountain range
we are still shifting
and evolving around one another
your magnificent peaks shadow my jagged cliffs
and our plates push up against one another
creating friction
in the best of ways
but the best of days
are made even better
by simply reminding myself that you are a wireless connection away
an entity to feel emotions towards
because your beauty
will always be real to me
and if i ever forget to tell you
please read this poem

I can't say what I want to you,
because it is held up in my chest,
I want to scream and let it out,
but I fear that is not best.
They always say never show your hand,
for a modest man is admirable,
but now I must make my stand,
and put myself all in,
by telling you that I love you.
It is not just a love that you see in the flicks,
or the type that you read in the books,
my love is like a thousand bricks,
landing upon your head.................

**** the formalities. **** the artistry.
There is no art in love,
there are no metaphors,
similes,
onomatopoeias...
There is only that unheard of force which keeps me going,
the battery to my soul,
the engine to my heart.
There is only that unheard of lift when I hear your voice,
it flies me above the clouds,
letting me see what I can be.
The only art which I can see,
which involves loves beauty,
is the masterpiece that the lord made,
when he graced us with you my fair maid.

you are so very inconsiderate
you do not taste the sweetness of their
s o u l s  like I do
you do not savor the ice from a man's veins,
cooling your white bone snappers
like I do
you do not study a blue green brown black red purple yellow orange
i r i s
like I do.
you do not live
with other people's hearts
deeply set
in your marred palms
like I do.

It is the color of clasped hands,
of disease spreading through the town-
clogging the throats of young children,
making mothers scream and curse their God.

it is the color of dropping eyes,
of rubber bones and leaden limbs-
struggling to raise their arms for a chance of victory,
making bodies collapse and smack the concrete.

it is the color of tight lips,
of darting eyes flitting from face to face-
wondering who to trust with the heaviness,
making heads spin and sweat drip.

it is the color of the aftermath
of scars trailing up and down your once soft skin-
crossing up and down your limbs, carrying guilt,
making young boys and girls howl at the moon