We spoke soft about the crashing,
and how strong the winds were.

The rain that hits objects sideways,
And the madness in the middle of the storm.

Sometimes storms shouldn't pass
Because from a distance,



they're so beautiful.

It happened..
I finally grew up,
I'm ready now.

I'm ready to fall in love with you.
I'm ready to make you my chaos and my calm. I'm ready to make memory's and stuff.

I didn't have the answers before or know what page to look on for advice. But now I burn wondering.

Wondering how to get back to the immature me, so I can show him how to love you.

I wanted to say so much, but the match was to far lit and I understand you can't relight cinders.

They think they have to right to hit her. Her bruised black eye, shouts out to me from the top of the stairs.

I tried to catch every tear that fell from her face, hoping that one day I could put them back.

Hoping that I could make her smile with all the lost brilliance of a young black man, that would grow up to learn and to love, to fight and feel.

The Unequivocal love of a woman so beautiful, her iridescent glow would make a blind man see.

Among the art of dramatically stained coffee napkins, ***** plates and cheap fashion Magazines, she lay sleeping. Hugged by the lazy corner edge of a moth-eaten sofa bed.

'Paris I love you', it's what it said on her t-shirt, but the talking in her sleep was nice. There was Something about the way she tripped over the English language, she knew so well.

Here it was. Us.
The cinematic picture of immature love trying it's best to claw back real. Her porcelain face highlighted just enough by sun and glitter. If my eyes were shut, I wouldn't have seen the beautiful fireworks.

I don't know how we got here? so I kept rewinding these grand ideas of life and love. Hoping 'once apon a time' still had room for us.

16 weeks, 1 day, 7hrs and 32 minutes.

Searching through whiskey soaked eyes, hoping life would cut him down so police didn't have to.

He stepped off.

Whatever last decent piece of him he had, was left, wind swept on a platform with unknowing idle eyes watching.

A 'good morning' or a 'hello'. Could have changed his course of action, but the drink spoke to him were others couldn't.

Just another forgotten page from yesterday's news. Imagine what he could have been if he was sober?
Help comes in all shapes and sizes.