In life, we have those moments.
Those moments where,
everything seems to stop.

And the only thing that seems to matter,
is you, and anybody in that moment.

Your heart beats faster than
it ever has before
and everything is now
in slow motion.

The rain even seems to fall slower.
The wind quiets
and in the distance you can hear
a Lynyrd Skynard song
or maybe it's Bob Dylan.

But it's smooth and calming
and you feel like the moment
couldn't possibly end,
but it does.

Like all things it, it too must end sometime.
But you know what's really great?
We can always make more.

I've had a lot of moments,
with you.
They take my breath away
and remind me.

They remind me that no matter
how I'm feeling:
Angry
Excited
Glum
Happy
that I'm ALIVE

Mon Cheri
You are the best thing
that has ever happened to me.

I was once petrified
at even the thought
of uttering any sentence
close to that.

To admitting how I feel.
Especially to myself.
I was terrified of getting
broken.

But that's apart of life!
To be upset, happy, scared, confused,
Full of love.

And we as people
are not like the broken glass
in the alleys of the cities.

We are humans!
Resilient! Persevering!
Not just surviving but living!

And what do we live for,
if not love?

Mon Cheri,
you have my heart.
My everything.
Everything I have to offer
it's all yours.

You are my one.
I will make no comparisons
of princes and princesses,
or of fairytales and fables.
We are not those things.
Make believe.

We are the realist thing
I have ever had the chance
to be apart of.

We're human.

We make mistakes.
We scream.
We cry.
We get hurt
and we kiss the broken parts
of ourselves.

But, amazingly,

We also help each other.
We laugh.
We love.
We pick each other up
when we fall.
And we kiss the broken parts
of each other.

We have love between us.
It's similar to Kryptonite
for Superman.

It's the source of his strength
which makes him invincible.
but it's also his weakness.

We'll get hurt sometimes.

But together
we are still invincible.
You literally make me feel
like I'm flying.

Like I was saying about moments.

There have been moments where
you're in front of me and
tears are sliding down my face
and I feel as though my heart
is banging on my chest,
trying to escape the pain.

Where we're yelling and I'm
afraid we're going to lose each other.
Where your eyes are full of tears too.
Where I don't think we'll make it through.

But we do.

And then the relief washes over us.
And suddenly, we're clinging to each other
for dear life.

And in those moments, I'm absolutely sure
that I NEVER want to lose you.

Arms, legs, and lips are intertwined.
Hugging, kissing, laughing.
Like we never had before.

I love all of those moments.

I love the moments on a lazy Sunday.
Where we wake up, make love and just
hold each other. Just enjoying the morning.
As the light creeps through the window
dancing on our bare skin
and smiles are stretched across our faces
and our hearts are full
and we whisper to each other and laugh.

I love our adventurous moments,
where you scare me to death
and I shout your name and smack your arm.
But really,
I'm laughing on the inside.

I love the moments spent on the couch,
fighting over what to watch, or
playing video games.

I love the moments we spend in the shower,
it just feels so normal.
So comfortable.

I love the moments when we
go on dates. How you hold
my door, hold my hand,
hold me.

So many moments spent together.
Doing normal everyday things
with you is so much better
than alone.

They just become so full of love.
They become moments.
Things to appreciate.

Even sleeping next to you is better.
You keep the nightmares away.
You keep me safe.

I love you Mon Cheri,
for everything you do,
for every part of you.

From your messy hair
to your toes.

For every piece of you,

From your kind and sweet words
to your ADHD.

I love how loud, how vibrant you are.
I love how excited you get for things,
you could never annoy me.
Everything that makes you who you are,
I love it.
and I love you.

With every part of me.
Even the parts you don't particularly like,
but I know that you still love.
Oh darling,
even with all these words,
they still don't come close at all
to how much I love and care for you.

Oh, my darling.
Mon Cheri.

We sang: retro post-modern.
With tattoos of Lynard Skynard
And boats sailing
At high mast.

Mediocrity accepted as norm.

We came rarely,
For legal reasons.

Religion stained our blood,
And our *****.
With pine smoke fragrance.

Laughter,
Few and like
Stucco condos-

Birds whispered secrets to life
As we murdered each other with silence.

Sun rise:
Gleamed positivity with
Bling chains of Christ.

We danced while naked and alone,
Another legality-

And culture was processed in the blender of commerce-
Black and white word puzzles plagued our lethargic minds.
From triviality—
Transience.

You are a bundle of baby blue balloons
tied to the rail of a gate; the entrance
of used car parking lot.

A man, who
goes by the name Joe is doing his
damnedest to pawn off an old mustang,
the year: unknown -- he has yet
to be familiar with specific car models;
he was the manager of
Costco for 20 years before
getting fired for ****** harassment.

His wife is at home.

He speaks two different languages.

You over hear him, and can't help
but giggle to yourself, each of You
swaying in midair like the fur
of a dandelion.

It must be nice to have two sets
of limbs, upper and lower body
movement; it looks as if
a clusterfuck of genius
has taken the form
of flesh.

Perplexed, You
let one of You
go. You never come
back down.

This is easy
You think.

Joe has failed again; this is 3rd time
today; unable to muster up the courage
to call his wife for support he turns
to a little coke he has in an old
Altoids case kept in his left pocket.

The restroom is where
all the *****, shameful
practices of humans take place;

You call it: "The Encasement of Perserverence"

Clever thought, You say to Yourself

drifting there, alone in Your
grave of gravity.

I see You and wave, but You
pretend to not notice me
and continue to float
like a cloud.

Joe comes back, sits on a red
chair outside the main entrance;
where the sliding glass doors
no longer slide. He hums
a sweet little tune; Simple Man
by Lynyrd Skynard.

You sing along, but through
your film so no one can
comment on Your bad pitch.

It's another day in Tuscon, Arizona.

The sun begins to set.

And we're sulking like undiscovered
mermaids under this umbrella
of 'what the **** do we do now?'

Night will come soon; hinder our progress
with it's unique way of settling the score.

There is no stillness, and You're
no longer a bundle of baby blue;

You are a bomb bound to burst
once the needle of morning
discovers where You live.