You are an exquisite Art piece
Full of blinding beauty that shines from beyond what meets the eyes
Your mind bellows with all things to be fancied
And your heart
Oh your heart
I wish to find a heart like yours
You love like you've never been lonely
And you laugh like your eyes have never been pierced by the calamities of this world

You are spellbinding my love
You possess a world of sentiment and tenderness
And you nurture life with the whirl of a hurricane in your eyes

But where is the time?
I am busy with the things of the world
My heart is just here
- in between my rib cage
Imprisoned by my mind
You embody the ideals of what my mind, body and soul have unknowingly searched for,

But my eyes are closed
My mind is occupied
I have no energy for your personality

- the end -

I am not afraid to love

 someone whose eyes sparkle
 someone whose passion pours out of their pores

I am not afraid to love

Someone in a moment of their monotonous and mundane weeks
Or someone who wants to be left entirely alone

I am not afraid to love

Someone who is wrong and fights to be right
Someone who is arrogant and hot tempered

I am not afraid to love

Someone with minor or major flaws
Someone with insecurities as vast as the ocean
I am not afraid at all.

But I am afraid

that after loving someone with all my might
And investing an entire new routine of fitting them into my thought pattern, my heart, my soul, and knowing that everything I see echoes them

They fizzle out
And particles remain
To remind me
of what I do not have anymore
And was I never enough to be stained onto their lives?

I am not afraid to love
Those who can love me back
And love me back
And love me back
And love me
back.

I love people watching
Seeing the way they have put themselves together
Watching the dust sweep from underneath their soles as they glide through this moment

I am dumbfounded by the myriad of people and their intricate designs,
In the most non-creepiest way, of course

The scars they show as medals
The wrinkles they try to hide but pop out in a burst of laughter
The different happy feet movements
The little walking hums
The hand swing gestures between couples
The ones that trod around avoiding interaction
The ones that smile ever so fervently trying to connect with complete strangers
The ones that catch me

Oh dear, hi! Awkward smiles, now look away, quick!
People, such restless things, aren't we?

There is something so sacred in the way a person walks when they are happy
And something so enticing about those who walk in uncertainty

What are they thinking? Are they even present? Do they realize that this moment is their actual life? That it is the only truth they will ever know
second.by.second

So they should do that thing
Tell him you love him
Hold his hand even though you are mad at him
Hold onto your mother no matter how old you are
Eat the food!
To not care but not be careless
It's hard, no?

Our egos mixed with fear
Such ****** things
Such menacing and parasitic things

These ideals of what should be, of what should matter - They all fly away with the cold and bitter air that we exhale

Perhaps, Bob Dylan was right when he sang, the answer my friend is blowing in the wind"

And I hope it whirls at our lives like the enormous jolt of bravery you get in your heart when you accomplish something that frightens you.

And then, dear people, I hope we do all the things!

Everything is exactly what it is until it is what it is not and then it is even more or even less than what it was  

A dandelion is the only flower that represents the 3 celestial bodies: sun, moon and stars. It's a magical chance. It's a wish. It's a float of hope as the seeds soar and forsake our sorrow.

Stars possess the infinite power to constantly bring tranquility to ones' soul.

The sky's a blanket for the lovers of the day and night to gaze upon.
To say the most delicate words to and kiss every so unforgivingly.
It is a place where you have a twinkling audience to bleed out the ocean within you
And a unpolluted moon that softly kisses your forehead as your head hangs in melancholy.

Everything is exactly what it is until it is what it is not and then it is even more or even less than what it was

And what it is, is the muchness that reflects from within

And the humans. Oh the humans. How much more they are than just scientific stuff.

You are made up of stars, dandelions, every colour of paint and even gem stones

But all the world is a reflection of your insides, so make sure you feed your soul with that real good stuff. 
That magical stuff.
That mighty stuff.

Clean your eyes, Love
You can't see with all those facts

You are my poison and my poem
I inhale you and you damage me
I exhale you and you give me a high

I take joy in igniting you
With the promise that you will warm the cockles of my insides
As you simultaneously disappear
What a contradiction you are.

I hear you crackle
I watch you burn away

You see, you are a passive drug
You slowly **** me but quietly remind me that i am alive

I take in every single inch of you
Long and intoxicating
With a tip that burns of satisfaction

You are a fiersome thing to behold
I am all brave, stupid and hopeful to even fathom you as a constant without its own genre of pain

I will kiss you and remember that you are not good for me
But I will not rest without you inbetween my lips
And I will take in all of you
And leave only your filter for the world
Because I dont need your facades

I know what you are
You, my hopeless love, are my cigarette

And you set me on fire.

Let the words hum a sweet-sombre tune of phonetic bliss as their residue trickles down your heart

Let the words be straight forward, embellished and all sorts of stories
Let the irony of the world bring out all the twisted and jagged discomfort the truth within words has to offer
 
The words will stain your make up
The words will bruise your scars
The words will lighten up your flames
The words will hurl a storm within the hurricane of your life
 
Always remember to breathe in the words and exhale their essence
Flavour your days with their teachings
Always, always intoxicate the world with all the doing words the writings have to offer
 
For a letter is only an inked-stained piece of paper until you cry on it a little and transform it into Life.
 
Be your words.