I'll be honest
I'm not exactly sure how to write myself pretty
I don't think I'm capable of making desire out of words
Or forming the way I sound into something you would want to fall asleep to
I cannot mold my body into a figure that you would want next to yours for more than one night
I have more passion in myself than I know what to do with
I often give it out as hope for people to take in their hands, find something good in all of my chaos
Everyone always advises not to fall face first in love
Forgetting that the those who fall by accident
Often land the hardest
Hitting the ground full force
Cheek against the pavement
I was built with 206 bones in my body
And I will break all of them from my mistakes
Before I dare to stop falling
The crash is worth the high
Ask me every time when I am still hung over from yesterday
And I will always say yes
Having regrets has always seemed better
Than having nothing at all
I was born with steel layed out upon my chest
All of these attempts at language
Are done with the intention
Of removing some weight off of it
I have been made heavy by my own silence on too many occasions
At times I have been told not to speak
That my lips should be kept shut for protection
There are bolts on my jaw
My tongue is sandpaper
And I will risk grinding my teeth for the possibility of igniting a flame
Inside someone who has spent years trying to find a lit match
Let me be the thing that starts a fire
Rhyming doesn't always incite romance
But I can try my best
See the problem is that there are so many ways to say I love you
But not enough to make them love you
The problem is having a million things to say
And a million ways to say them
But not knowing the right way how to
There is no right or wrong here
Only hold back or release
So stutter instead of staying quiet
It is much more beautiful on paper
To disregard format, or style
And structure
I will mess up
As best as I can
And in the morning
Look at it again
Remember how it felt
To live
Then reread,
Review,
And edit.

They said, "We come from ******, where the love
"is more exquisite than men can dream of,
"much less provide.  The hard Augustan rules
"are masculine, and made for breeding fools.
"Your patriarchal moral cannot sever
"our intimacy---that will last forever!
"We have the right to choose our destiny,
"without permission of society.
"You call the past His-story; but a page
"has been turned.  We come out with a new age.
"New drama will appear upon the stage
"of life's existence---with new cast and scene,
"its poetry composed in Mytilene."
So spoke they both . . . intensely . . . from the heart.
Not too long, after that, they broke apart:
the one given to raging jealousy;
the other?---children, domesticity.

I want to smile,
Without pain in my heart.

I want to laugh,
Without feeling like I am being judged.

I want to cry,
Tears that hold so much joy it's hard to handle.

I want to be happy,
I've been sad for way too long.

To be honest I just want my fingertips to be familiar with your bare skin. I want to see you naked 3 AM and remember that I have you forever. I want my eyes to be on a first name basis with every inch of your body. I want the taste of your body to be imbedded in my memory

Every time that I see you forced to take a deep breath. I have to try and regulate my heartbeat. When I see you you an inaudible wow always escapes my lips. That’s how amazing you are to me. So amazing that every time that I’m graced with your presence I accidentally let my awe of you escape me

I wanted her to know I liked her

and maybe sometimes loved

so I gave her little wildflowers

the color of the dying sun

She was happy with the little signs

of my innocent affections

placing the flowers in her windows

and telling friends of my intentions

But one night I got too drunk

and I stumbled to her door

and led her in the blustery night

to a field of wildflowers on the shore

And when the sun rose on the coast

the field a burnt-orange blur

I told her I  planted them all

the first night that I kissed her