In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.

Scars say
The thousands of words
That never left my mouth

I find it strange that when I look into your eyes I'm not met with an endless starry sky. The world around me doesn't freeze or turn monochrome around everyone but you. I don't see an endless sea or visions of a setting sun, no matter my determination. So how do I know it is love if it isn't as the words I've heard all my life describe?

Yet my heart still drops when you walk into the room, even when your focus is a place far off. People say it's like a flutter but this is far too heavy to use such a light word to describe such a feeling. It's painful, but I know it isn't something ominous or bad because it feels right. How do I know it is love if none if my words describe it right as they should?

I get it every time our eyes meet or you tilt your head and smile with your head in the clouds. I get it when you laugh to yourself or say something hardly above a whisper. When you focus so hard you ***** up and let out that silly sigh of aggravation and I feel such deep affection. Yet is it alright for me to say what I feel is love when I can't even tell myself what love is?

I don't think your eyes need starry skies or my stomach needs a million butterflies. Your smile doesn't need to illuminate the room and my thoughts for you don't need an anchor. Your love shouldn't have an expectation and my words don't need to have a proper diction.

Perhaps I'll see it in your heart or feel it in your touch one day if you feel the same regardless of what the world has sold me with their modern day poetry. I promise you that no matter how hopeless I become I will find out for myself  what it means to love you wholly, even if I have to find out from loving at a distance.

I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.

I see you in the billions of stars
That make up the constellations in the night sky
And I no longer feel alone
But in the morning when I wake
You are no longer there
And I am alone once more
Alone with my thoughts
And one of these days
I think my thoughts might consume me
And I will join you in the stars

Just. Eat a bowl of cereal.
Sit on the kitchen floor carefully so the milk doesn't spill, scoop the flakes into your mouth by the streetlights filtering in through the window.

Or climb out onto the roof.
Slip out your window, hip braced on the edge, and use your arms to pull yourself up, crossing your legs on the shingles and breathing in the stardust swirling around your head.

Create a masterpiece.
Dip a brush in some paint, use your hands to shape clay, choreograph a dance, script a play, write a poem, draw a spring day.

Make a blanket fort.
Tuck the blankets over the couch, pad the floor with cushions, and flick on the TV, so you can watch cartoons while wrapped in warmth like when you were a child.

Stargaze in the backyard.
Tiptoe out the back door, quilt tugged tight around your shoulders, spread it out over the dewy grass and stretch out, facing the clouds and counting the stars.

Learn Morse Code.
-.-. --- -. ...- . .-. ... .     .-- .. - ....     -.-- --- ..- .-. ... . .-.. ..-.     .. -.     - .... .     -.. .- .-. -.- --..--     -.- . . .--. .. -. --.     -.-- --- ..- .-.     ... . -.-. .-. . - ...     -... . - .-- . . -.     -.-- --- ..-     .- -. -..     - .... .     ... .. .-.. ...- . .-.     -- --- --- -. .-.-.-

Have a shower.
Run the water hot so it'll burn when it hits your back, shed your clothes and step into the steam, breathing in the vapors and imagining that you stand in the heart of a geyser.

Go back to sleep...?
No, this elusive peace is distinctly one with the night, and it would be foolish indeed to throw away such a gift merely to function during the bland sunlight hours.

h.f.m.