you see, when they asked me to describe love, to describe you, i thought about writing about how i was lost until i found you and how you were my water in the drought. but if i wrote about those, i would have been lying.
the thing is, darling, i was not looking for you.
i did not climb the tallest mountain and reach out for you at the top with scraped fingers and knees. i did not plunge into deep waters and risk drowning just to catch a glimpse at the beauty you were. you and i, this love, was not planned.
so when they asked me to describe this, to describe us,
i did not write about how you saved me.
instead i wrote about how i was full, how i was full before i even met you. i wrote about how i thought there was no room for anything else, but you came along and i began to pour out at the sides, making a puddle of joy on the kitchen floor.
i wrote about how you never asked me to climb a mountain for you, but rather we sat in the car and glanced at it. and then later, we drove to the shore and barely touched our toes to the sea.
you see, when they asked me to describe love, to describe you, i thought about writing about how you changed me. instead i wrote about how you loved me the way i was, and how i loved you even when i thought i did not need to.

I have know where to spend my “non dollars” after it’s been cashed in for non sense
this new currency isn’t viable, nothing is buyable you have to see.
That I have trouble finding who to be
After the catastrophe......
I could
inspire from the cleansing fire of my own experience
Or I could sit in shame as the man who sat back and took the pain but did nothing.
I can
make a difference with the change I’ve received
I will
change my mind mid sentence, sentencing my sorrow to jail.
So my tomorrow is more then hail and storms
But tomorrow reforms my pain
I declare standing in the rain
The victim will no longer be me, I shout in victory.

All I want is
Some place to store my memories
Somewhere outside my brain
Where it consumes memory space and emotions
By the zillions
All I've learnt is
That things are temporary
Not because of a fire
But because pictures taken off the wall
Too many times
Don't stick anymore

Usually I store my memories
In another person
That's why I talk fast
I want to get it all out
Before I leave again
And start over

Another city
Another school
Another set of classmates
Another life

I've given up on sticking my pictures up anymore
Not that I've tried really

But I want to have
My children
Stick their memories up the wall
And I could have a share
Of Mine.

I know that you only think of me as a friend, but there is just something about the way you act around me. the way your eyes light up like the sunlight streams through my curtains in the early morning. the way those very eyes look at me like you're trying to solve a puzzle and you can’t quite get the pieces to fit, but you force them to anyways. there is just something about the way you say my name, like the way a little kid learns a new word and finds himself saying it all throughout the day. the way you talk to me, and the way you know not to talk, but to just be there when the anxious thoughts creep in like a heavy fog during the night. I know that you only think of me as a friend, but there is just something about the way you make me feel. almost like you want to spend the rest of your mornings, days, and nights only saying my name, over and over and over.