The way her eyes play with my mind,
And God said, "she's a different kind".
A deep ocean lies in her hair,
Where I drown in just a stare.

Like the mellow strings of a guitar,
Her music flows to lands afar.
When drops of rain lay on a rose,
I dream ecstatically of holding her close.

I fear of my arms being empty,
But my broken heart feels guilty.
I gave my soul for her to rule,
But she uses it merely as a tool.

Time turned everything upside down,
Compelled my smile to become a frown.
I'm now just a petty attraction for her,
To be worthy of love might take forever.

Having a crush on a boy is like facing an enormous, old brick wall.  A brick wall so high that you can't see what's on the other side.  You would wonder, day dream about the possibilities of what is on the other side.  You remind yourself that you should never let your expectations ruin your reality; but you can't help yourself.
You have dreamt about the possibilities awaiting on the other side.  Then, one day you have the courage and the drive to climb the intimidating wall. At first, you hesitate, but once you start it's a rocky ride. You go slowly; placing your hands and feet in the crevices of absent bricks. Cautiously, working your way. Step by step. Pull by pull.
Finally, you make it to the top. You see what you have desired so dearly. Your imagination has let your expectations grow high, but they're met. You see a field of lavender, that makes you taste the color light purple. And you see a boy, he's a close friend; standing in the distance on the lavender blanket. He sees you being exhausted, frightened, and amazed.
You have been dreaming about this for what feels an eternity. If you go to him you may give your hopes up; but you remember that you didn't climb that aging, titanic brick wall for nothing.
You take one step forward, placing your foot onto the ground. The boy begins to walk toward you. You do the same.  Negative thoughts begin to buzz through your brain. Thinking: "how will this work?" "your best friend hates him?" "how will this work?" "what if I'm making a big mistake?"  Finally, you tell yourself that you should go on an adventure.  An adventure that can make you feel the air, see the stars, and listen to the music like you have heard it before. Otherwise, you will just be stuck at the bottoms of the wall, just wondering what could have been, truly a great adventure.
You then find yourself in his arms, thinking how you got there. Then, you see over his shoulder a cliff.  He then tells you how he had to climb an enormous, brick wall, to find himself staring at an amazing girl in a field of lavender on the other side .  He too was internally conflicted, but it was just a sign that he was about to go on an amazing adventure.

I could see it in his eyes
His golden heart was in disguise
He was different from the rest
Lonesome and depressed

But I could make him smile!
And suddenly my heart was in denail
We fell in love, and we fell out of love
But oh boy, we fell

They say the first love is the sweetest
But Baby, the first cut is the deepest
His voice was broken
And his wounds were open

I had to say goodbye
For this, didn't just make me cry
He gave me a new perspective
Even though he was deceptive

This baggage wasn't his
For this boy, had so much more to give
The silence was deafening
Unbearable

I will help him carry his baggage
As he had carried mine
I'm not leaving this innocent boy
Not this time.

.     what was the first line you let him
                              cross?
                  what was the last?
         when exactly did you decide  
            to lose yourself to him?
     when did you start to lose respect  
                       for yourself?
         when did it finally come back?
                            has it?
           why do you still miss him
        when you have someone new,    
                     someone kind    

       why was he the first person you    
                       wanted to call
            when your grandmother
           was sent  to the hospital?
         why is every ******* thing
                          you write
                centered around him?
             when did you become so    
             disgustingly emotional?
                        shake it off
                          grow up.

our memories fuel my weakened soul...........with a concoction of sweet bliss and sorrow
I've sipped aged red wine from your collar bones
and was blessed by the touch of your skin.
when the rain poured it still didn't smear the imprint of your lips on my  cheek.
I still remember the sweet sugar glaze over your eyes when you looked at old pictures of your grandmother.
The family trips
The thanksgiving dinners and the sweet echos of laughter.
The old flower petals you kept from her funeral and the note you found that she left for you when she knew the end was near.
You used to look at me with that same sugar glaze sort of trance.
But things seem to be different.
The picture frames are broken
The trips have been called off
and the flower petals have dried and crumbled.
But there's still a hint of that sugar glaze love in your eyes......

hello , you.
do you remember the first time we had ***? because i cant, but i can remember the last time, it was at that golf course by your house the night i popped a tire and you had to come save me.
you were always saving me.
its been exactly a year since we started to date , and about 5 months since you left. crazy right? look how far we've fallen. does it ever make you sad?
i still have yet to meet somebody who makes my heart feel the way you did , not for a lack of trying.
i see that youve moved on, i have also. i hope that she knows that you hate being told what to do, and that you like your tea with two splendas and no lemons, because you hate the seeds. and that the best way to get you to laugh is to bite your earlobe.
we aren't what we used to be , in fact we don't even speak, but i catch myself thinking about you every now and again. i hope that when you hear my name you remember all the good instead of all of the bad

love is a knock on the door
if ever it comes unexpectedly, be sure to make it feel at home
it will be this stranger with a smile too enticing to ignore, yet you will give it your all, trust and love, skin and bones

love is the corner of each page turned
patiently waiting for the reader to fall in love with him or her
it is the beginning of every word written on paper, and to every beginning there must come an end, yet the ending to each story will keep you at your toes, with a desire for another chapter or even another word

love is the warm mornings of winter
it is a blanket enveloping every inch of your skin, ensuring you that haven is within reach and the spaces between your fingers
its kiss will be the taste of coffee or tea and its embraces will be felt enclosing the very palms of your hands, giving you the satisfaction you need

love is a child with scraped knees
no matter how many times they fall, no matter how many more experiences they meet and no matter how many times they have to land on their knees, they will rise eventually, whether with tears in their eyes or a smile too big that it stretches their cheeks, they will continue running and playing the game they never finished

yet love is not a game you can play, not with feelings
it is not a card you can trade, it is not something you can throw away after the game is finished
it is this victory that engulfs you once you have reached the other end of the line
it is this passion waiting to congratulate you on the other side, with a kiss, a hug, or even more love so divine

but love is not all about contentment and days numbered with joyous hours and time
it is also the taste of defeat, a taste that your tongue and palate will never grow used to
it is a wound that is never there, that stings with each touch and each word that reminds you of the other
it is inevitable and a moment that cannot be stopped with time
it is a journey that cannot be undone, a path that you cannot meet halfway, yet you will try with every ounce you’ve got to reach the finish line you thought was destined for you and the other
and even though that other started off with a smile, too enticing to ignore, you gave all your love and trust, to every bit of your skin and bones
no matter if they’re gone, along with your love and trust, at least they gave you back something in return

because love stayed up with you all night
talked with you for hours as if time itself was slipping away
love was an argument you couldn’t win
it was the only game that made you feel that you failed
it was a heartbreak away yet you pushed yourself to look past the flaws that made them frail
love was an inspiration to strength
a story that made you turn each page even though you knew the beginning to their end
and no matter what weather, love gave you the warmth you needed
it became the time that healed the wounds to your knees, the spaces between your fingers, the blanket that enveloped every inch of your skin

yet love was also the reason why the smile so wide it reached your ears, disappeared
it was the reason why you stayed up all night, waiting for time to slip away
it was the reason why your view on love developed into fear

and still, love was the reason why you were thankful, that you reached the finish line
it was the reason that kept you waiting by the door each night, expecting and hoping for another knock to come by
love was the reason why you trusted strangers with such smiles
and you knew that no matter what happened, if love still came knocking at your door
you were sure that you would still welcome it home

n.j.

how simple is love, if you could just walk out the door, and have them fall into your arms
how simple is love, if you could long for company and have them racing to you like the pace of your heart
how simple is love, if you could just place your hands against their cheeks, so simple yet satisfying as when your tongue tastes the light of the sun
how simple is love, if you could have them within reach, like most material things so irrelevant and what are considered wants over needs
how simple is love, if you could have them close, too close by your sheets that they become the comfort and the air that you breathe
how simple is love, if you could wake up and have the presence of their weight felt, whether a phone call away or an inch
how simple is love, if i could simply have you here, whenever i need you the most for a kiss
how simple are all these things, and the love we view as bliss, like those we read in between pages and paragraphs, a crisscross of how two people meet

yet in between these pages and lines, are the stories and words that have yet to unfold
and i was not aware of what i had to hold before my eyes

i cannot feel you by the tips of my fingers, nor can i walk out the door to find myself welcome to your arms and kiss
i can only long for your company, praying that my heart will not leap out of my chest, because i know that no one will come racing to claim for the lifeless body, and i will be buried under, nailed and coffin closed, sadly like the rest
i cannot have you within reach, i can only surround myself with all of these temporary wants and in time, i know, i will no longer need
i will suffocate underneath these sheets, and your weight will not be felt because you are miles and miles apart, separated by sea, not an inch
and i cannot return back the love you need but i will continue to love you nonetheless, without growing tired and weary, no matter if i am even close to death, and to me, this is the simplest love can get

these are the stories and paragraphs that have yet to unfold
in between the lines are these words of a love we all view as bliss, a crisscross of how two people meet
and this was the only thing i had myself to prepare for

the story i grew up being told

n.j.

you complete my thoughts before i utter a word
you speak as if you take the words out of my mouth
robbing me of the sentences that are filled with doubt
and changing them to certainty, like a frown turned upside down
i don't always know what to say, but with you, you turn that around
but sometimes i feel bad, that i can't find the exact words to say
yet you keep talking, word after word
whether be it on screen or the voice inside your head, the tips of your fingers, or the whispers that have yet to be said
with a mind so beautifully written
i wonder if you truly are too clever for your own good
yet i am thankful for your way of words
for the comfort and for the person on the other side
and if given enough time to find the words i could
they wouldn't be enough to suffice how amazing of a person you are

but i know in the end, i need not explain, for we both know, my incomplete thoughts will be understood

n.j.