As if the Sun could not warm me
with it's endlessly finite rays
you reach out and wrap me
in balmy, blissful days

And for the first time
my everything is enough
and it's okay that I'm not and never will be
that kind of tough

But, again with the fear
of abruptly finding the end
and discovering the journey
was all just pretend

The million little things
that you so effortlessly do
are barely enough
to let myself love you

But that's not your fault
and nor should it be;
when it comes to laying blame
it all falls on me

So please excuse me
while I fight with myself
and know that I'm finally dusting things
on that old neglected shelf

Just know
That I believe in peace
even if it's in pieces
and I think that we
are pretty good at puzzles

The air is smooth and warm,
the breeze wraps around you
and seems to fill you with a rare kind of contentedness;
specks of infinity freckle the navy sky
and the streetlights glow against the buildings,
like something you've seen in paintings;
her hand is small and a little sweaty against yours
but you wouldn't let go,
not even to grab something out of the nearer pants pocket;
the town is empty, asleep, quiet,
and the noise of your feet on the pavement is almost offensive
but it fills the silence between you,
that lies in the small gap between your arms;
she's so close,
you missed her
and you know she missed you
but you pretend not to notice the way she keeps turning to look at you,
and you suppress the smile that surfaces each time you catch her eye
until you find yourselves in the alley,
away from the lights
and while pressed up against that wall,
pulling her closer and tasting every sweet thing she's said
and every laugh she's chased your jokes with
you pretend to understand
the complex perfection
of the simplicity and beauty
that is a summer night.

You have managed to seep so deeply
into my skin,
my heart,
my mind,
that every time I wish to find my words;
wish to write something meaningful,
something beautiful
you are all I see

and so the words become a feeble attempt at your description
as my heart so desperately tries to put adjectives to feelings
and I end up sounding
like some love-struck, sappy, amateur poet
that knows nothing but you
which isn't true

I know lots

It'll be okay
And if it's not
It'll still be okay
Because my tears
Were meant to be shed
And my anger was meant to be bled
All over this life that we hadn't planned
But the fear will dry
Like the tears I cry
And eventually I'll understand
That nothing is ever supposed to be planned;
That adventure is exciting
And the unknown is awfully inviting
And everything that hurt
Will heal
But not without a scar;
So thank God for those stars
Because they know
That it'll be okay,
Even if it isn't.

Too many nights
were never enough
With only the stars
to call my bluff;
Making constellations
from the freckles on my face,
Waiting for the mirror
to deem me a disgrace;
Summer nights
warm and full,
Spent wishing,
waiting for the pull
From you
that never came
I learned the rules
to your stupid game;
The one that you weren't playing.

I'm used to playing alone.

Sharp stubble that rubs my lips
Your hands gently resting on my small and bony hips
There's very little spaces
Between our stomachs and faces
And I must stretch to my toes
To level with your nose
I feel the seconds slipping
And already I'm missing
The warmth of you there
The tickle of your hair
And the high that you give me

I'm an addict

"Will I see you tomorrow?"