Green light.
Driving [five] miles
over the limit and if
accelerating gets me there
faster it's worth risking the ticket.

Holding on to time tight
as we race by each light
on our way to routinely
ending our perfect night
and if what we're doing is
wrong then I don't want
to be right.

Bright light shines yellow.
Speed right past it. Moving so fast
I'm stuck wondering where my past went.

She's removed it from my memory
and the present is what matters. I made some stupid comment
but am repaid by hearing her laughter.

Coincidence isn't what happened and I'm not sure if I believe in destiny
but the girl I've dreamed of is sitting right next to me.
Looking into the horizon my mind comes up with an idea as
I begin to press on the brakes.

The car comes to a stop
and before I look in her direction I realize the
stars look beautiful tonight.
With my only motive being
stealing kisses at a red light.

Lungs are full of sludge and it's getting harder to breathe. Tripped in quicksand and its all the way past my sleeve as I sink lower and take at last look at what is surrounding me. My body is being crushed and I just want someone to set me free.

Recollect each memory held dear to me and wondering in my last moments what mark on humanity I've chosen to leave.

Sand consuming  my torso. The one she held onto while we kissed and wiggling to much so quickly I start to sink.

The sand at level with my back as I recall the times she left a scratch because she could never see me without leaving a mark or keeping my body intact.

Sand up to my neck while I refer to the burgundy erupted blood vessels that with her lips shes disturbed and because of it I can only hear her moans and not words.

Sand up to my lips and happiness enters my forsaken body as I recall that hers were the last ones I kissed.

Sand now over my head and in our moment of death we refer to the past and learn to love each moment in time. Safe to say that in my moment of death she was the only one on my mind.

Mind racing at [fifty]
miles an hour while I start
to lose track of each hour
I've spent with the mistress
that placed my heart in
her garden of sunflowers.

Sunlight accelerating
photosynthesis while developing
a thesis as to why all these pieces
are perfectly falling into place.

Chasing love is what I'm known for
and she finally slowed down enough for me to catch her.

To think that there could be a day where each of
these poems she'd grow to hate, triggers minds to raceand doing everything I can to make sure that no one takes her place.

Hope I'm not being too possessive even though
I'm known to be obsessive and keeping everything else bottled up
so please excuse if every kiss leads to something aggressive.  

Every kiss bursts a leak,
surroundings become mute as  her moans
become the only language allowed to speak.

Stopping myself from revealing
details classified as intimate,
and I'm convinced this is love
it's just that I'm a little new to it.

I'm learning to record this story with ink and permanent print
so that when solitude moves back in
I can refer back to your memory and hold on to it.

Trying to end this poem perfectly
and I don't know about you,
but the closest thing to perfect
begins with the letter [two]

Hold your tears back
for as long as you can.
Please, don't cry come
here and hold my hand.

Sitting on that stage
you admire your surroundings
and the routine that you'll grow to miss and as you wait for your name to be called you unconsciously reminisce.

****** this final moment in the establishment that's become your second home. Hug this juncture tight, hold it and never let go.  

Look out to the audience of strangers and after scanning the room, find the tear filled eyes that belong to the members that have seen your entire life go by and to them this day is a reminder of wings have been attached to a clock and concluding that in fact time does fly.

You've moved a step forward and life won't be the same, but after the round of applause your daydream is abruptly ended and it's your turn to walk the stage after the microphones echoes project your name.

[sleep]

She keeps me from sleep.
Any other night it wouldn't matter
but tonight it's what I need
in order to memorize the memories.

Slowly I thought I'd lose her
so impulse became to consume me
and after she called my bluff
I rushed off to see her beauty.

If love is meant to be it'll come back.
Seven months did prove that.
Met her in [november] and lost contact.
She returned, showed interest and my heart crashed.

She's gorgeous and it's hard to believe
she chose me, and that
night I drove out to be able to see
the most astonishing smile
that was put there because of me.

In love again but surprisingly it feels different. T
he type of love one reads about.
The type of love I'm writing about.
The type of love we all dream about
and the type of love I'm experiencing now.

Appreciate every hour spent.
Right now we've spent around twenty two
together in five encounters and
the fifth was my favorite because
this love didn't become mine but ours.

It's way more than writing lines.
No coincidence that this poem
to you is number five.

Penultimate verse. I know you
understand every word.
For you every word in my vocabulary I've used
and yes I do agree that you are my favorite muse.

I've created a moment with her at last
and I knew I had achieved it when
she whispered after I kissed her that
her heart was beating too fast.

Tears shed over a voice
that belongs to a person
you've never met.

She understands how you feel
and her words you will never forget.
Regret falling in love with
the voice of a stranger.

You share qualities in common
like the abilities to spill ink
over paper. Minds that are so alike
and considered neighbors.

Qualities that qualify us as a writer.

Where did she acquire
the skills that have made her famous?
Where did I discover the ability
to publish pages?

Every piano key she strokes
chokes the life of another note
and her talent produces something
beautiful nonetheless.

See her perform live at Joe's Pub
by my lonesome. Appreciate her art from a distance.
Hear her voice echo off the walls inside the venue.

Hear her pour something into a microphone
as it translates her emotions into sounds.
Watch as ears react and eyes water.
Streaming river of tears that I decide
to follow.

Voice travels through my head.
Disturbs something along the way.
Triggers emotions to begin
and memories replayed.

Rip the veins of my pen and watch the ink spill onto this page.
Don't regret the ****** because I'm making art.
Display it to the world and watch them pick it apart.

You are my biggest influence and this session is here to show it.
Thank you for the music and the songs that you've recorded.
I really hope to meet you. Work with you surely.
You are the definition of talent. Thank you, Birdy.

Deprived of love.
Frustration settles
nests within my mind
as I long to spend time
with the muse who pushes
me to write this line.

Hoping to place a kiss on the lips
that forces me to write about [anagrams] and [clouds]
before time runs out.

Feels horrible when we don't speak.
So much left to say but
she probably won't stay until forever.

I want to tell her that
through my mind she runs
but I swallow it all and
continue to bite my tongue.

I'm awkward, anxious, and
annoying and at the
moment she's capable
of keeping me stable.

Really wanted to see her today
and the frustration starts to add up
and I wonder if [fourteen]
cursed my heart from ever encountering love.

Asking if the letter [b] could be
the beauty responsible
for causing this curse to be broken.

Sorry for being the most annoying
human being on the planet and
I understand if you can't stand it
and my words have a tendency of
being redundant and repugnant.

Hoping she doesn't fall in love with
what I write and fall in hate with who I am.

Fixated on thing that don't belong to me
and nothing else is going well
and she's the only one that makes me happy.

Avoid getting ahead of myself
so let me stop writing and shut up.
She feels the same about me
so why does doubt keep coming up?

Plummeting into love too quickly
isn't new to me. It's always strange
but familiar.

Ranting at the moment cause her
love has left the door to my heart open
and if I could make the choice about
who to fall in love with I know
she's the one I would've chosen.