Maybe she loves too easily
Yet she means it when she says it
Her heart on the table
For the person to devour it.

Maybe she loves too easily
She should see how things will evolve
Before flying, one has to first learn
How to crawl.

Maybe she gives herself entirely
That she should protect herself
So she will not be deceived
So briskly.

Maybe she gives herself entirely
And she should not unless she wants
To slowly sparge the pieces
Of yet another shattered heart.


    She gives her love too easily
    But when the ones she adores
    make it worth it
    It overrules
    All other times
    She ended up sobbing like a fool
    The only way to live
    To give is to receive
    She chooses easily
    Over carefully,
    Her heart
    For the taking.

its funny...
how easily you walked
into my life was just
how easily you walked
out of my life

this door exists,
stately and staunchly it stands,
disheartening and terrifying it remains.
the door is unlocked, yet cannot be opened,
for in it, a path in time...
one decision that can affect everything
[such as my choice to wear the necklace you adore,
which lead to you noticing me for the very first time,
or my idea to play you the song that you fell in love with,
which i can no longer listen to]
...for in this door, one path
is intimidatingly located.

every bone in my body,
every last muscle, tendon, ligament
each artery, each vein, each capillary
every single nerve,
even each microscopic cell,
implores me not to open this tempting door...

[it is almost as if my hand refuses to grasp the handle,
to unleash the unknown upon me,
the colossal chain of events that would ensue]

the immensity of the unfamiliar,
the unexplored,
tends to perturb me.
change is unnerving
and is almost as chilling
as an abandoned graveyard at midnight.

but i bring my mind back to the door,
yes! this preposterous door that i have contrived for myself.
why is the **** so easily turned?
why does it not put up somewhat of a fight,
at least jolt me suddenly,
as to frighten my curious heart?
it is a constant battle between my body
my mind
and my heart
as to which doors to open
and which ones to leave ever so steadfastly closed.
but never once has there been such a struggle
for them to reach an understanding.

somehow my heart,
[even though a fraction of me,
a fist, dripping in blood]
is prevailing for the moment.
my heart reaches for the handle,
attempts to unclose the door...
yet, with the best of its ability,
withstanding my strong-willed
and obstinate heart,
my powerful body and commanding mind
overcome this hostile takeover,
and the door remains shut.

it is my body,
my skillful mouth,
my soft, rose lips,
my elegant tongue,
and my vocal chords...
all of these pieces must
contrive the words,
conceive the change,
which will unveil the path that will forever alter us...

slowly, opening the door.

being as in love with you as i am,
i will not let you slip away from my arms right now.
but when we are not together
[i wish you’d have been there,
i needed you there]
i stare at this humbling door.

if i wait too long, i’ll forever lose you;
for it is you who will make this choice for me,
opening your own door, fearless and dauntless.

She reminds you of a tiny flame. You look at her and she's small and beautiful and luminous. And in the back of your mind you know she is equally both dangerous and weak. One wrong word or action and she can diminish into nothing but smoke. But if she catches something that makes her feel alive she grows too quickly even for herself to handle. And while you stare into the glow of her soul. Feel the warmth of her body. She begins to burn down everything you hold dear. And you should have seen it coming. You should have paid more attention but that little flame flickered and danced around and you couldn't help but still see it as small and beautiful. And once she absorbed all she needed from you to survive, she vanished. Leaving you in piles of ash and rubble. You saw her as a small flame and she saw you as everything she needed to grow into a fire. Now you carry around buckets of water throwing them at everyone you see. Hoping they won't engulf you into their destruction while you rebuild yourself.

The colors all internalized in me
Are killing me inside
The red of fire in my veins
Keeping me alive
The blue of cold inside my heart
Chilling every bone
The black hidden deep in my chest
The color of my merciless soul
The yellow-brown of my bile
That burns and stings my flesh
But none of these painful colors
Have been able to **** me yet

It struck me tonight
How impressive it is
The deftness of your tongue
Coaxing life
Out of shy, windless nights
I still remember
Sitting by your side
As your laughter floated westward
The bashful heavens made to blush
And you
Conducting an orchestra
Of sweet vivid flowers
Wet petals falling from your lips
Kissing me gently on the cheek
Painting cursive
On the sky's horizon
My words will never be so
Delicate
They are stiff; they are tired
They are made to roam abandoned alleys
And grow old in the open hands
Of a book
So speak to me
Drip your honeyed breath onto my chest
With shallow sighs
Wrap the fingers of your conversation
Around my hand
And don't let go