It took a few years to find ourselves.
In that time, my hair grew out,
and your height grew tall.
We grew like sunflowers.

All the other girls wanted crowns,
along with a Prince Charming,
while I took up fencing, and learned
how to shoot a basketball properly.

You learned the arts, how to
play sharp staccatos and paint pastel skies,
while the boys your age were
breaking windows with baseballs.

Your performances stunned the crowds.
Your fingers moved mountains.
You came to my competitions.
My saber moved faster than light.

From a distance, was how we grew.
We were the sky and the sea,
watching each other from a distance.
So close, yet so far apart.

The Passions are not gone away,
But they are a bit sleepy now.
I am so tired
That I prefer Quiet to Joy,
And Calm to Enthusiasm.
I am not detached,
I  just have to be on my own
For some time.
Love has to lessen its intensity,
And so does Friendship.

I think I'll go on a holiday
From Reason and Theory:
Plain Common Sense
Is a good friend of yours,
Don't you know?
Empathy!
Better turn you off too,
For some time,
Some very long time
Of quiet On-my-ownness.

Language is tricky
When you become too serious
About what words mean.
Thoughts are like tiny fishes:
They flow aimlessy
And not everything
Has to be picked up.
Introspection is cool,
But Spontaneity makes
The world go round.

And you know what?
I am just satisfied
With my life
In low-cal version.
This is not
An appeal to moderation,
Nor an eulogy of apathy.
I am just saying
That happiness
Is a much softer pleasure
Than outbursts of joy
And hedonistic delight.

So sleep the passions of my life,
Calmly and softly.
And I watch them in awe.
Everything is so good,
When the Passions
Are not Gone away.
But they sleep so well.

Please hold on to my dreams for me
Put them in a ziplock bag, carry them wherever you go
But don't give them to me
I lose them so easily when they are alive
I only find them once they've died
I'm sorry for my recklessness, but know that I've tried

I want to hold my dreams the closest to my heart
Inside my passions and within my hope
Swirling feelings of bliss hide with them
I want to keep them safe from my doubts and insecurity
But I can't be trusted with such fragile things

In my hands they tangle and fray
Falling victim to procrastination and vanity
Tattered and bruised they lose their shimmer
Like pyrite and nickel they lose their shine
What happened to the glitter and blinding glow?

As my belief and trust in myself fades
All I see in my dreams
Is someone drowning at sea

Passion's energies
You feel from the energies inside
Needful release of such
Needs slow release
Like a "slow cooker"
******* true to true attraction
Synergy.
Sharing your soul through the hot
movement of your body
Holding such "steamy elements," inside
You steam up and then start to explode
As the Crockpot has warned you to lift it's lid
Do not?
One shall not know true blissful enjoyment
of the experiences of sharing "a stranger's romance"
With that one which he deeply has a desire
For
Inside and out
Of the fashion and the **** little underpants.

My passions are not yours
My dreams are not yours
I am not yours

I will love my passions
I will follow my dreams
I will be myself, you will have no say

So please stop tearing apart
Everything that is me
Simply because it is not you

It began with a fiery passion
   Formed deep in the earth
      Where heat raged against pressure
         But it was a love that possessed
            Too much pressure
               That burst at the seams
                  From the very depths
                     Of an ancient volcano
                        And unleashed a rain of ash and smoke
                           Now these two lovers are
                              Free falling
                                 And winding
                                    They clash against the water
                                 In the heat of a riptide
                              Yanking back and forth
                           Until the water threatens
                        To drown their lungs
                     But a wave of sorrow
                  Carries them
               Limp
            And completely exhausted
         Onto the beach
      Where coarse sand is their bed
   And salty water
Is replaced by salty tears
                                                           ­              As a storm begins to form
On the black and white horizon

Poetry is flowing over my skin
Lights me up from within

The way bubblegum feels
As it pops on my skin
Sticky and sweet
I feel a burst of fresh air
Pop inside of me
Lips lick the pink aftertaste