She breaks her own spirit from misplaced shame,
Afraid the world will know how she’s failing,
She never looks past the mirror for blame,
But wears a smile to hide that she’s ailing.

She guilts herself into constant giving,
But knows she needs to be taken care of,
Yet of that need she is unforgiving,
And of the fact that she’s not yet in love.

She’s constantly spinning out of control,
While frustrated she feels constantly stuck,
Lesser folks around her seem to live whole,
But asking for help makes her terror-struck.

Friends keep saying that she deserves better,
If only her neuroses would let her.

The sensation of being touched by eyes,
More sensual than any finger’s touch,
With intense softness that can paralyze,
Overwhelmed by feeling that means so much.

Your mystical gaze safely holds my heart,
Your stare is more gentle than velvet hands,
Even in photographs when we’re apart,
I’m moved by touch my soul never withstands.

If only you looked at me endlessly,
In my dreams I’m nothing but a mirror,
That’s never so blessed as to simply be,
To receive your stare when you come nearer.

Your eyes are like fire that doesn’t consume,
But I melt in their radiant presence,
Seducing me like the perfect perfume,
To be touched by eyes is feeling’s essence.

These scars,
Not a single one of them hurts.
Wounded,
Yes once, but the numbness reverts.

These scars,
I can touch them to remind me.
Wounded,
Yes once, but now it’s behind me.

These scars,
Disfigured skin says now I’m healed.
Wounded,
Yes once, that openness now sealed.

These scars,
Painful though what was hurt’s not there.
Wounded,
Yes once, its permanence laid bare.

This isolated claustrophobia,
Inside, humans packed shoulder to shoulder,
In collective agoraphobia,
Neighbors bashfully quiet and colder.

This space among the masses I travel,
And thank goodness I’m surrounded by clouds.
Up here I can let my thoughts unravel,
Amidst the solitude of faceless crowds.

Above the clouds where daydreams come alive,
I have the space to write without judgment.
Towards Heaven I know my soul can survive,
Dancing in the clouds I see your movement.

Up in the air I’ve left the Earth behind,
With other aimless souls passing the time.
Seems traveling by plane is where I find
The inspiration for the perfect rhyme.

My imagination is so feeble,
For no matter how hard I try,
My image of how beautiful you are
Is nothing like reality.

My best dreams are so ineffectual.
For no matter how lucidly,
My clearest dreams of you and your beauty,
Are dull compared to the real you.

My most eloquent words lose their meaning,
For no matter what words I choose,
My language too simple and imprecise
For the indescribable you.

Between last night and this morning,
Between the full moon and sunrise,
When dark descended like a sheet,
And heavy lids covered my eyes,

The stars emerged and receded,
Nocturnal hours ticked away,
A carpet of frost was laid down,
There between last night and today.

Ere dawn blackness interceded,
Taunting me, “Where is your light now?”
Yesterday had been locked away,
And I must start again somehow.

The nightfall came to curse the past,
I embraced it to block the shame,
Because soon the sun will come up,
And I will never be the same.

Between intention and action,
That gap is filled with processes.
Mental. Emotional. Unknown.
What penetrates those recesses?

Between intention and action,
What moves across that connection?
Feeling. Need. Pain. Inertia. Fear.
What motivates that direction?

Between intention and action,
There is the indispensable.
Devotion. Love. Strength. Soulfulness.
Are our lives comprehensible?

Between intention and action,
Do we call on our sense of awe?
Pathos. Concentration. Wonder.
That’s where we enter kavanah.

This love is not the one you’re haunted by.
You are not subject to demons’ torment.
That scar is not enough to terrify.
That ghost of hurt is not malevolent.

Not everyone you see will wear a mask,
Nor every feeling from some witch’s spell.
No monster gives you poison when you ask,
Nor is your tale a ghost story to tell.

Your life is more than just a vampire’s meal.
You might find peace below the fullest moon.
Tonight for once release the fear you feel.
Redemption from your fear is coming soon.

Though heartbreak is your scariest thing yet,
To miss new love’s a scarier regret.

What could compare to that first kiss?
To the expectation of bliss?
Testing the softness of her lips,
Awkwardly touching noses’ tips.
As her pink lips open a touch,
As you slow from pressing too much.
The first time that she tilts her head,
You touch her cheek with words unsaid.
The first time you slide down her chin,
And she lets your upper lip in.
The dream you had seen in her smile,
Is there for you to stay a while.
You taste her and smell her perfume,
With feeling too much to consume.
Sugar has never been so sweet,
As when your tongues finally meet.
You don’t need to open your eyes,
Each movement’s a perfect surprise.
Tongue and lips touch delicately,
With powerful intensity.
Love at first sight waited for this.
Nothing compares to your first kiss.

When the clouds part just a sliver
And the sun is like an echo,
O’er the Earth with light to give her,
To make a ray of sunlight glow.

Angels pass upon the sunbeam,
They carry light from God above,
Our so one ray of light would seem.
With sky awash in aural love.

A point of light from overhead
Expands around us from the gray,
Like a halo upon our head
Adorning us on our dark day.

To see Heaven illuminate,
When all the light has been obscured,
Reminds us that it’s not too late.
The world is sick but can be cured.