Many people, including yourself say I do what I do because I am fighting hard for a prize.
I have news for them, you are no prize, what so-ever. As harsh as this sounds, it is really a great phrase.
When I say you are not a prize, it means you are not an object that can be taken or to be possessed. Instead,
you are a beautiful human being that I am lucky to have in my life, and that everything I do, is intended to earn
the right to be the official person that will make you happy, take care of you, support you, as well as grow as a team, whether
if it is labeled only has best of friends or something special. Only selfish want I always had that the chance that I see the true feelings I sometimes see in you in waves, maybe a breath of fresh love from time to time, that I could one day improve myself and prove to be a best person in your life in a meaningful way.

    A deep connection like this should be pleasurable and fun everyday as we build each other up and frolic under the stars. A beautiful friendship with deep feelings is most similar to dancing, as it should not be painful work but a journey of smiles at the end of the day.....

    That mentioned, to best describe the world of deep friendship up to true love and anything between is to describe why two people dance. When we chose to dance,
unless professional, it was never meant to be an object of hard work or stress, but the activity that brings out the best of each other while enjoying the rhythm    
of music, as we know as life. It's all about combining out best moves to show the audience that the duo can dance to any beat. Sometimes dancing can demand a lot skill. To maintain a great performance,  it does take good communication, social cues,  and proper response to accurately synchronize the dance steps as a team. A second look back is sometimes needed to execute a shocking introduction without injury; But more or less, without targeting the end result as in the audiences approval or a prize at the end, the true gift is the laughter and excitement of celebrating the music in a coordinated dance skit.

    I have danced with many partners, but I must say I have enjoy dancing with you the most, despite hiccups on the disco floor and few skipped rehearsals. Some moves you made can put the king of pop to shame, as I do believe I can rock the Caspar  from time to time. I am satisfied with any genre of music while dancing with you. I must admit I am no Fred Astaire, as I can be a klutz. I made a few misleads that I accidentally stump on your toes while some of your moves have place bruises on my shin. This is common when you dance hard to the loudest, most brilliant music we tend to discover. There are times I blow the dance routine by misreading your next step totally, where at other times, I come unprepared to a new move that impresses the best judges. My main error is when I over-coordinate my special moves when the music of life drops the beat. I am happy though we are savvy enough to whip back into rhythm. I may not be the greatest show partner on floor, as I have not maintained my dancing jacket over the years, even though I believe that jacket was once cute. I understand that a good dancing partner must take the time to visit the tailor to replenish the thinning cloth around the collar, maybe add a bulk of fluff to the shoulder pads, refresh the color, and most important replacing the missing white buttons. Until then I do understand you want to dance with other people that still maintained their jackets, but I know that my dance moves are best coordinated to the rhythm of your style of music  :). That being said....

Let's enjoy today, enjoy the flow of the music and where t leads us, and most importantly,.. May I have this next dance :) I am always honored to tear the floor with you, and redefine the musical genre called love and friendship.

I am tattered and worn through
I am tangled and distracted
All of my strings have become loose
My body is a knit jacket

Hang me on rusty metal hooks
I'm filling in your hollow shelves
Replacing every antique book
But he only cares for himself

I can't sustain my perfect shape
Because you kindle a fire
I'm a candle, melting away
And all I ever feel is tired

But everytime you hold me
My sleeves intertwine with pale skin
My thoughts are slowly unfolding
Now I'm ready to let you in

Her love thoroughly coats
like cat hair on a black jacket:

encompassing from front to back,
tickling playfully underneath armpits;

overwhelming from tiniest to long,
armies of glistening lines on dark planes;

catching gazes close and far,
stigmatized for being so noticeable;

sickening to envious and hallow hearts,
allergic to solemn, broken souls;

and yet despite the nuisance
that comes with such fashion,
it is relieving, comforting, and pleasing
because it reminds me
that the house isn't empty
and that I am not alone.

I'm naked sitting on my bed
Wrapped in an old leather jacket
Bad thoughts running through my head
I lay there and think **** it
Maybe I'm not ment for this planet
So I let the tears frame my face
My body as cold as granite
As I quietly slip into empty space

Through the halls footsteps clambered unearthly
Searching for those of choosing deemed unworthy.
Never did she gaze with eyes upon their moral coils
She would wait till shunned and glance upon her spoils.

No arms outstretched just entwined in a jacket of covering
Apparition of no form leaching on life, she became uncovered
To show what was beneath this jacket of soulful corroded white
Leaching forward did strands seep entangled in her blight.

Screams were silenced as strands did inhale every noise heard,
Death was warped, in a state of purgatory both were blurred.  
A vessel of anger, her wrath fed others who slept in darkness,
They tormented her soulless form, a vessel of corruption incarnate.

A puppet to inhale all essence of what shone dimly bright.
But every time she glanced upon a light that was finite,
An echo remained in her now blackened gaze a tear fell
With each soul devoured a essence in her did linger, dwell.

Though she was a spirit that fell, corruption was expelled
In all droplets that descended, not all went dark some was withheld.
That which matter ascended beyond the cloths white glimmer.
Though they were consumed, a portion flew even though dimmer.

She hungered for the warmth in the recesses of her dwellings
To consume all that was uninvited, cloth is her telling
Her pain is felt through every touch consumed in her obscurity,
Depleted but hidden there still linger a tear of soulful purity.

Her short hair glimmered, her eyes frantic,
like a deer in the middle of the grass,
her hands at her sides and a small jacket on
as she continued down the dusty path.
Her arms are soft, delicate like feathers
placed around her amidst small floating leaves.
She stood in the sunlight, with lost letters written
mis-spelled out all across her hand in pen of ink.
But still she had to move on, a young man stood
in front of her like a quick spoiled cat, he was dark,
a strange boy with eyes brown and hair solid black,
I still think about this, stuck on grass green parks,
like autumn days, all the wonder and moments we shared.

@The Jacket.
Love, can I treat you like I treat my jacket? Taking you wherever I go, showing the love I have for you through my sleeves and tuning you to my body, pulsating throbs of my heart as our two frictions force reaction.
I want to have you close to me, heavy hood be your hair as it sinks close to me, covering my neck with loving protection, covering my shoulders with your arms entwined with mine as if we were truly one, covering my length and letting me know that we are at a temperature of comfort and ability.
I want your body to clothe me, zip up tight and never let go, hugging me with all the comfort in the world and lifting yourself as to be a silent watcher to me, a shield to my being from the enemies that threaten us.
I want your hands to be the pockets, close yet separate, deeply rooted as if it were your faith placed near my sides. Holding me as I hold you.
I want our love to be the zipper, running through both our forms, creating a new feeling, making a new being, forging us.
Yet who are we? Who are we to claim to be so close in cloth yet so young in mind, so strong in emotion and so weak in body?
We are the very fabric of nature, hooking to machines that form the sewed outlines of other such fabrics, forming the earth and inciting war among our emotion.
We walk through the public proudly, you clinging to me and I, chest puffed like a bird in mating season, acquiring a taste for the strange looks and stranger people who deem to judge us based on their understanding.
Hot weather, cold weather, mild and comfortable weather. Rain or snow, sleet, hail, or hell’s heat, I intend to keep you close, as you are more than cloth covering me, you are the being caressing me, kissing my spirit and cradling my heart in the warm grasps of your fabrics, pressed closely to my chest in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, hiding my form so that none shall see what I deem stay hidden.
And I shall love you, I shall do all that I can to keep you safe and keep you near, mend you and wash you, clearing your mind and body of the impure, soaking your fabric and drying them out once more. Tonguing your soul while hugging you back, rubbing your threaded flaws and letting you know that they are necessary, that they are noted and left as forgotten. Unafraid to dawn you and worthy to criticize yet keeping grateful to have you when the nights get cold and my soul needs your warmth.
The world is a cruel place, and it gets worse every day, which is why, my love, I want you to be my jacket, and I shall be yours.

Your scent still lingers
On my jacket
It's been a week
Yet your still lingering
On my sleeve
Did you really hug me that much
Or did I just hug you too tightly
Because I knew it was goodbye
For a little while

There is no hair on my chest;
My eyes are deep dark

Which i heard you say
Are the ones you do not like.

I have a crooked smile

With good intentions
Unlike the guys
You hang around.

I comb my hair with a part
Over to to my right side

And i dress to impress
A lady that does not care.
I will still walk
With my chin up

And my getup squared
Just because
She does not care.