True love, the kind in fairy tales - ya know the ones with witches and knights, strapping princes and tarot-reading witches - is unexpected.

Don't listen to your mother and her love stories, or those cheap dime store romances. Love is not a teenage dream, or the flings on the soap operas (winning your Lucas back from that ***** Sammie, always my grandma's favorite villain in Days of Our Lives). Grandma, the life, love and days i want are different.

Love is fluttering butterflies. The uncertainty of knowing if this moment lasts, seeing a rainbow. The feeling always has an unspoken expiration date. It is rare. So rare that we pay psychics to find it, and whole forests have been lost amidst writing out our collective fantasies.

I guess it's a good thing my ideal love isn't grown on trees then. Supernovas can't be purchased. Trading hearts isn't easy. In fact, it hurts so much that Shakespeare's ghost considers revising Romeo and Juliet any time he thinks of what love has shown me. My love burns like a broken heart might sting if you shoved it full of stardust.

The ancestors knew love is a mystery. The sphinx doesn't know our riddle, and if spells worked I wouldn't be reading this poem. I can't waste anymore hope on tarot cards which have become worn out, bent, and far too familiar since I met you, love. Here let me explain:

The smell of you is a kind of mystic vapor. The oracles at Delphi would trade in their visions for one of yesterday's t-shirts. Don't be embarrassed or confused, I'm not here to play The Fool. I've already proven that we both can be The Magician, High Priestess and The Emperor. The magic of love is bigger than either of us.

My love comes with keys to my kingdom, sit on my throne, direct my armies, and borrow The Chariot. Hell, you can have the castle! You know that's what fairy tale sweethearts do.

This kingdom has known no Empress. That seat sits empty. Think you're man enough for the position? In a future fantasy, you'd inspire the nation, just the way you'll inspire me. We'd leave a legacy. Pyramids, empires, new eras, and new faiths would rise in our names. Pharaohs would envy how the Hierophant pronounces us inseparable. In my fairy-tale, letting down walls is easy. Love knows no labels, no limits, no bounds. Love is fairy dust.

In my 3 part epic, love and romance are no burden. See, this fantasy is one we read through time-to-time and I'm only just learning how to trust wishes made on shooting stars and genies in bottles. No one before has ever made it past the dragons, soldiers and that Minotaur. Believe me when I say, you appeared out of thin air and I trust in fate now. Thank you. I know you aren't the one. I'm learning to let you go.
I hope I do you justice. When you showed up, I prayed to my fairy godmothers for the first time I can recall. The last ******* ran off with Excalibur, the unicorns, and my scepter. "Oh well," you said. "That isn't what counts."

I've been a hermit so long, I forgot how to smile. But when I wake up in this new fairy-tale called life, I don't notice the treasurer, my wars, and problems in the kingdom or even that all my favorite princes still dream of finding their princesses most nights. Even that doesn't scare me. This is all too authentic and the heart gets used to being rejected. Stamped return to sender so many times, I can't count.

My happily-ever-after doesn't have to be perfect. I'm a realist, and besides, we've both gained so much that it feels like we finally landed a spin on the jester's wheel of fortune. Writing poems is something I gave up when I put aside these stories I grew tired of envying. Now I am writing my own. You currently don't fit the part of Prince Charming. Ironic since you inspired him.

Ya see my physical wants are just side effect of the real bliss that I find when I am myself beside you. I don't need ruby rings, or magic slippers to feel at home here. You give me the Strength to fight my own nightmares off. That’s a gift no elves could forge into gold.

It's the way you make the world explode into color that is worth any cost. It’s your honest caring that neutralizes the occasional tragedy. Besides, the drama, which is less dramatic than any of the past “once-upon-a-times” I've fallen into, only makes the story more exciting.

You broke the spell that a Black sorceress and her 3 sister put on you. I first felt like a hero that day at your side. Hearing you renounce your former desire to be the Hanged Man, or to desire Death, is still one of my favorite chapters of the story we wrote.

The love I dream of isn't easy, as I've said. It isn't always epic or fantastical. Sometimes it’s about finding the Temperance not to push potential princes off the balcony too often. There just aren't enough magic carpets these days. I've discovered that learning not to expect change is its own school of challenging wizardry. Luckily, I'm not bad with rare wands.

My love has its risks. I get it, love is usually a surprise! Love like this is easy to deny, fear or resist. I don't want a proposal or their parent's permission for a hand! I just want my prince to be the first person willing to face down The Devil for me, the only one who climbs my Tower and really ruffles the sheets, the one who outshines The Moon.

I don't want to be "that prince." I'm no former-frog; I'm no good with a sword. Honestly, I had given up on magic until you asked me to eclipse the moon. It wasn't hard. If I have to extinguish the Sun, my tears would swell and blacken the sky. I am glad I don't need to shed them anymore.

This love, rare and mystical, is like a leprechaun. Everyone wants it, nobody seems to find it. I got to the end of the rainbow though. It will go something like this, "once upon a drunken, Vegas night..." an Urban fantasy at its finest, if I do say so myself. I just don't want the *** of gold. Give me the dark, mysterious knight. **** the prince. I know it sounds crazy. He and the princess can take the *** of gold, the baby unicorn, and my Judgment too!

My love is risky. It has no chains, guarantees, or Geico lizard to vouch for it. No time-turner to fix it when I **** up, no love potion to make you stay. In my fairy tales, the dragons are our wounded personalities. His shining armor is a defense mechanism, and my damsel-in-distress routine won't work if we let the spark go out.

In my timeless romance, The Lovers learn to enjoy the moment. **** castles, I'd be happy to get a studio. I don't have a unicorn. My chariot looks the same after midnight. I can't promise riches, fame or immortality. And yeap, compared to the princesses, I'd better resemble a toad some mornings.

But I have a love that can put Shakespeare to shame. I'm more complex than Tolkien's Middle Earth, braver than Harry and just as scarred, smarter than Gandalf though I lack his beard, more patient than any of those damsels, and I bet I cook better. No, I know I do. Somehow, this quest has taught me self-confidence.

Unlike those fairy tales, I'm no finished masterpiece. This work in progress has a heart of gold, is on a quest, growing up daily and aims for future royalty. I'm looking for love, ready to leave Neverland, and all i have to offer you are my best effort, this worn deck of cards, myself, and all The World I can bewitch for us.

WANTED: one prince charming who can see themselves in this real-life fairytale.

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To date in their eyes there're to ensure these products prevent the person! Every one of us behave on same means day-to-day : we tend to outwardly captivate each of our anxiety by using much of our procedures owing to your concentrate. Your current concentration is the best authentic personal development electricity! When we finally carry in your mind the concern in the we'd like the contemplating affects many of our methods and then we acquire themselves obtaining the particular details we would like Cheap Fitflop. This is definitely personal growth electric power on it is core. In order to avoid tempting occasions the ones that may assist you manifest ones own concerns frequently ask yourself several personal development fear-busting concerns previously. It's easy to discover that ones own fearfulness basically dark areas without realistic ingredient and that you will first improve in your own personal development as well as all of the instruction you prefer.
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the world is a dryer.


if there is a washing machine section within our universe, I am unaware of it.

I don't work that rotation. I work the dry shift.

tumble low heat, fluff, repeat.

repeat.

in almost every dryer known to mankind, some contraption serves as the lint trap. collect all of the lint and excess laundry fluff as it goes through the dry cycle.

in this world, in this universe; if the human race consists of the articles of clothing in the dryer, I am the lint trap.

it sounds almost cutesy when phrased like that. dryer lint is fluffy and soft and the combination of all the different fibers of the various clothing.

I'm the trap, though. the filter.

I must absorb and filter the excess fiber from every article of clothing. if the entire human race is in this dry cycle; I absorb and filter their raveling ends.

it's ******* exhausting.



here's a better analogy. have you ever had your stomach pumped?

they handle this differently now, but when the doctors, nurses, and staff working in the ER would get a patient who swallowed an entire bottle of ****** with a ***** chaser; or a new mother's young son swallowing her bottle of sertaline, they would get to work. one hand activated charcoal, the other hand with a large suction tube.

activated charcoal is what neutralizes the bottle of ****** or the bottle of Zoloft. the charcoal can absorb **** near anything. it pulls out stains and poisons, neutralizing and absorbing.

this is where the tube comes in. the charcoal is harmless on its own, but the ER staff is in a hurry to console (get rid of) the screaming mother; to move the seventeen year old girl with the ****** ***** chaser to the psychiatric unit, and continue their night.

insert the long tube to suction the charcoal out of the stomachs of the two children. this is often haphazardly shoved down the back of the throat, down the esophagus, reaching the stomach. flip the switch, undo what peristalsis cannot. it's not pleasant. gagging, rough, foul, I've been told.

the body is working in reverse order. vomiting may be easier. the suction tube is fighting the natural flow of the body. the esophagus is attempting to push everything down down down, and the tube is fighting back.

I am the activated charcoal found in every ER across the globe. I absorb the poisons that human beings put into​ their bodies.

I can pass someone on the street, and my activated charcoal soul absorbs the negativity, the poison, the hatred, the emotional chaos from that individual.

I often wonder if the person feels lighter, noting the absence of the venom that once crippled them. I never ask. I just keep my gaze down and ignore the tempest ensnared within my activated charcoal lint trap.

there are others like me. activated charcoal hearts, lint trap souls.

Love is a progressively debilitating mental condition of irrational behavior, generated by repetitive occurrence of desired emotion.  All emotions originate simultaneously with personal thought or belief.  Then love associates with some form of a focal point.  Virtually any thought invoking component of existence can be convinced as a focal point including, people, possessions, or even activities.  The intensity and duration of love is typically variable, due to fluctuating emotional arousal.  In-order for emotional stimulation to maintain initial performance levels, over extended duration, exercises must be conducted with the focal point.  Once repetitive supply of euphoric feeling is established retardation of the brain is accelerated, drastically restricting rational thought.  Without the function of rational thought, behavior becomes irregular resulting in rash conclusions.   In case of emergency, ending contact with the target focal point neutralizes personal thoughts and beliefs, eliminating love in theory.

there was still frost
on my car when i left
i know you disapprove
of the way i drink my coffee
the little things we say
between silences stretched
like a string from hand to hand
i drink my coffee much too sweet
sugar neutralizes the bitter taste
and you wonder
where the point is

I won’t let you in the shore of me

Where the endless marvels of the sea

Glide the tide and kiss its core

The shore enjoins, entangles And lays bear

And the foam of the ocean

Neutralizes,  rushes along

And meets

The sentient sun chafed earth

At once golden, healing and abrasive

That’s where you’ll find me

But I won’t let you in

The shore of me.

you are there for me always
when i mess things up
you correct my mistakes
your smile neutralizes my anger
your hug calms me down
your talk help me think clearer
even though we are different you fill the void spaces of my incompleteness
you are the one to whom I can lean on
and you're the one who always
whisper to my ears " I am there for you"