I'd light the world on fire to be with you
Which is slightly problematic
Because then we'd have nowhere to stay
Unless you'll take me to the moon someday

sometimes
i wish you were the poet
because sometimes
i just want to be the poem

loving you is like looking both ways when crossing the street....
                     .....and then getting hit by a plane

peppermint on my tongue and metal in the air,
frosted windows with fingerprints pressed slowly,
seatbelt digging into my hip and my shoulder,
i remember our nights together like this, simple.
journal entries written delicately in blood and charcoal,
reflections pressed into rainbow flags and guitar strings,
easy smiles and wind-blown hair.

it's all pushed into the green-eyed void,
blink and it's gone, breathe and it's a vacuum.

i don't feel very poetic

and i never thought the ceiling i stare at each night
was worth a poem
because i'm sure you'd rather hear about the star splattered sky
with it's infinite universes that envelop beating hearts
and tear things apart just to make them novelties once more

but the white stucco above my head has constellations of it's own
that have kept every secret i ever told
on nights that i'd rather cut off my hands than write a
single godforsaken word

maybe the ceiling is it's own kind of sky
decorated with daydreams the clouds could never carry
it's not poetic by the usual definitions

but neither am i