How do you get me excited ?
When the evening breeze tares
my thoughts of you .
When the mental images taxes
my reason of right and wrong
When your words tease
my desires for you .
When I just crave your touch .
When I wish to touch your face .
To press lips together ,
savoring your breath .
To sigh heartwise without
the disguise of fear .
Take eternal the heaven of hugs
from your breast .
To share dreams that dance
like phantoms in the flames
of eternal love .
Weild the wild luster
embedded in my soul
from the ages past .
Longing in depth's decisions ,
made and bled ,
for a future truth .
My how you excite me !

Love, out of blue sky,
Appeared as if heaven broke,
  .  .  .  Shut monochrome world.

My moment is finally going to happen and I should be ecstatic.
I should be screaming at the top of my lungs that I'm finally going to be heard.
That what I've been working for is finally going to pay off.

But I'm not, and I don't think I can.

Im petrified, because the world is terrifying.
They're going to judge me or they're going to love me.
Okay, maybe I'm terrified in a petrifying world....
It all looks the same.
Feels the same.
Sounds the same.

But that's the most comforting aspect of it all.
That analogy will never change.
The way the world is is just how it is and there's nothing i can do about that.

But Me?
There's a lot of things that could change me.

I'm not the world.
But I sure do act like it,
Sunshine and raining.
Pulling tides and hurricanes.
But the world will always be the world.

And I have a horrible feeling I won't always be me.

She rose to greet me,
Flowing hair, sparkle eyes spoke,
Poem before words.

The snow crunches rhythmically
as I thump the ground.

Over
and over
and over
they pound.

I run the streets in a sharp, cold air,
and oh how I've missed the running sound.

I only ever worried that you
were too old for me.
Never once thought that I
could be too young for you.

I felt an uncomfortable mix
of excitement and fear
when I caught your eyes
lingering around my thighs.

I never imagined that you
too had an internal debate
somewhere between your
morals and your...

I don't want to be your
temptation, forbidden fruit.
Maybe if I were riper you'd
feel better about picking me.

I stare at the blossoming garden with growing excitement,
The glass between us shatters in against my hands,
Leaving shards within my palm,
But your left engulfs my right
And absorbs them