I orchestrate your violent butterflies
Fluttering and morphing into bees with big eyes
"Honey shed your chitin and be mine"
Your guardian angel and savior so divine

The strings of your heart as my violin
My grand concerto hypnotized you to sin
Made me your deity, my boat your place of worship
I welcomed your unholiness aboard my precious ship

Sailed through the clouds and into the stars
Set off on a light-speed expedition to Mars
When we returned to wander the Earth's seas
I found myself a slave to all your pleas

Mistress of this vessel yet so caged and lonely
When did I feed you so much power over me?
She was mine but I didn’t recognize
Tainted and defiled because of my lies

Her body and sails were painted red and blue
To much better suit and satisfy you
Irreverence to your deity, desecration to my shrine
I could only watch while you took all that was mine

A glimpse of land and gardens so close
Sparked a flame of hope in my life of shadows
I sprouted wings and the sun began beaming
Lighting up the rocks where waves were crashing

I raised her sails with one final goal
To free myself and take back my control
With cold confidence, I steadied my helm, directed my bow
Crashed her down like Dawson to Davy in the depths below.

It wasn't until today
When I realized that you can
Tell a story through only your eyes

it's past 12 midnight
-and that should just be okay
  given with my quarantine body clock,
but i haven't slept for the past 36 hours:
  -i walked around the city,
  -i exhausted my brain with responsibilities,
  -i distracted myself with hobbies,
but i just can't seem to sleep.

it's amazing how overthinking really rallies with your mind,
and how it affects your whole biological being.
it's amazing how, one brief moment with a stranger,
bugs me like this.

his lips,
his warm embrace,
his sweet voice.

i just can't seem to sleep,
i
need
him,

My teacher asks for the theme,
But I don’t know how to answer
I know and I know that
A theme is or is not one word,
A common thing, a binding spell
A theme is or is not an instruction,
Told by the character’s actions,
Shown in carefully crafted consequences.
A theme is or is not a quality,
Something which defines a character,
Which determines the course of the story
It is or is not more than one sentence.
It is or is not subjective to the reader.
It is or is not, so I don’t know the answer.

But I could tell you about the Little Chinese Seamstress
About blind obsession,
About jealousy, about wonder
Would that be enough? Would that be enough?
I could tell you about how reading is so personal,
Its effect on one
Can not be understood by another
Would that be enough? Would that be enough?
Or how skill is developed by tragic experience
How learning comes from failing to learn
Would that be enough? Would that be enough?
Or if I told you that the quality of a book
is only as good as its final passage,
If I told you that
a story shouldn’t be told until its last word,
Bound by something so profound,
The book must be reread, reanalyzed
Delving into the intricate mind of the author,
With full control over life and reality,
With the power to make one word thousands,
A detail into a novel,
Anything into anything without writing it down,
Because if you can understand what the author was thinking,
Then the author was not thinking at all
Would that be enough?
Could knowing be enough?

If you asked an author
To name to you one of their themes,
Do you think they’d know the answer?
Do you think they’d care what you mean?

Is it more valuable to the student
To understand or to define?
Is it more telling of the mind
To describe an impact,
Or to save time?