Art, a smile like the one
on the face of Mona Lisa.
Curved like the waxing moon
above the sea.
Light a flame before a face
yet to be seen.
What will it prevail,
will it show once for all
a slow tilt on the smiling lips
—a curve softly locks on
a rose from the sun,
or a shadow beneath the moon?

love is not made of giving and taking in equal parts
it is not a favor for a favor
i owe you nothing

love is not a compromise reached after long deliberation
it is not hurting on Monday
and healing on Tuesday

love is not touching because you will leave if i do not
it is not feigning naivety
when you see me cry

love is not the untimely squandering of innocence
it is not the suffocating grip of guilt
it is not your unwelcome touch

love is not
love is not
love is not

What do you do with a life's worth of pictures
when the meaning is drained out of them?

Each a facet of a jewel that was fake
The glimmer and shine unreal.

I look back at us and I don't know
if that then was worth the now.

The blame game has a name:
While rooted in a claim of shame
and a desire to defame
it leaves you lame
as you aim to maim.
it's very difficult to tame,
The name is ego.

I hope you fall in love with being alive
That you feel it coarsing through your veins
Pumping in your heart
A light feeling in your chest
And all you want to do is scream for joy

Your smile makes it hard not to tell you your beautiful.
Your eyes have made it hard not to tell you your mesmerizing.
Your voice makes it hard not to tell you your calming.
Your actions make it hard not to like you.
You're really making it hard.
For me not to like you so much.

I fell for you too hard

Now I alone am scarred