It is hard
To write
When all the words I want to say
Are scrambled up inside
Poems about love and betrayal.  
It just seems so overused
But no matter what
It is hard
To write
Anything other then about that.

it's been a while,
stringing words to unravel the mind.

picking up the pen again,
the familiar feeling of secrets shared,

like exhaling after holding your breath
for a couple seconds too long,

i missed you, old friend.

Everytime I see people kiss there’s an explosion in my heart that mimics the feeling of when your lips hit mine.
A sweet collision breaking through any premeditated resistance, I feel power in your breath, Intertwining, flowing into and out of my own. Not taking from, not adding too, but existing with.
So when I tell you “you take my breath away” understand what I really mean,
when we kiss I can feel god.
When we kiss my spirit jumps for joy and gets so excited he slips right out my nostrils and sits on the ceiling
When we kiss seconds get longer, I can see sounds, hear color, and the goose bumps on your skin just feel like love notes.

I got a new desk today,
I thought "HEY!
if I get a new desk
I'll be able to fix this mess!"
I put together the desk,
it wasn't hard,
I didn't sweat.
I put it in my room
and I got upset
because despite the desk
being beautiful and tall
wooden and long
perfect for that corner in my room,
it was not big enough for the clutter
and the mess
and the stress
and all the books and the stuff
that I need around me.
So now I have a desk and my things
and we all float together in my solitude.

i couldn't figure out what was worse
smoking or loving you
either one would turn my lungs black
and stop my heart eventually

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.