you're beautiful-

like a strange instrument
found in the basement of
a stately old manor home

i don't know how you work
but i can try and make sure
you don't fall apart

i will polish your metal
tighten your strings
and worry my nails to the quick

until someone who knows
how to play you just right
can coax out that lost music

i'll miss you
but what were you doing here?
gathering dust?

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
As in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came.
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack.
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

we are all only mirrors to each other
maybe that's why i don't get along with people

You kiss like electricity
Flowing through my veins like a circuit
You should have a warning sign
Because it's more addictive than nicotine in a vein
And there's no way I can refrain
Releasing energy only a powerplant can contain
My skin may not be metal
But your touch makes it just as conductive
You kiss like the sea
And you're as strong as the tide
Completely filled with mystery
The more I drink the thirstier I get

as a child i remember
staring at exotic fruit in the overpriced grocery store
wanting so badly to taste the mystery of a distant place

i took a bite of what i purchased and threw it aside
less of an adventurer than i made myself up to be

tell me-
is it hard knowing everything is the same?
because my god you feel like stone
beautiful marble
carrying the appearance of warmth
but in reality
cold and unbending
to change you would mean
I must chisel away your edges
but in softening your sharpness
the beauty would be lost
the elusive warmth would dissipate
and I would be left with the pebbles of what you held inside