Post-mortem for God:
We can’t find Him anywhere.
The cause? Religion.

My poems never trend.
I usually never get likes.
Repost is not in my vocabulary.
Having my poems added to collections is a very rare thing.

I don't mind.
My thoughts weren't meant to be read anyways.
I'm not so special.
I only have two followers who I want reading my poetry anyways.

If your poem won't trend.
If no one likes it.
If its not reposted.
If it never graces a collections touch.
Don't feel sad or unwanted.
It just means your thoughts are too perfect for words.

You can't tell me I made you happy. Because after every fight you end up hurting and that is not happiness. Happiness is not smiling at a text and thinking of that person all day long. It is not writing letters and poems and dedicating songs about them. That just plays a part in happiness. Happiness, my love, is actually being with them. It's seeing them with a light in your eyes that you've never had before. It's laughing when they say a stupid joke, and crying when they are in pain. It's smiling when they say your name and it's when you're laying in your bed at night staring at the ceiling with the widest grin painted across your face. It's knowing they'll answer you back when you text them right away. It's when you can feel your heart literally beating a thousand miles a minute when they call you. Happiness is when you are at peace with yourself and when you can tell yourself that you deserve them. It's when you know they love you because they show it through little things. Like telling you to wear your seatbelt, or telling you not to forget to have a great day in school. Happiness is when you can always count on them to tell you the truth, no matter how bad it is. Happiness is when you can emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically feel yourself falling in love with them. **

{m.j.}

Walking down the sidewalk,
We locked eyes,
Not knowing each other's names,
But both craving the same oh so much,
And we both can agree,
that neither of us is one for prayer,
Neither an angel nor sinner,
Punished in paradise,
Aware that you and me are 2 of a kind,
Stuck somewhere in-between,
I nod my head, you nod back,
Than we continue on this journey,
Knowing that it must be trekked alone.

I am still growing into myself,
My arms a bit too long for my legs,
A mind a little heavy for these shoulders,
Eyes that see more than they should,
And ears that love the sound of
the sinner's tongue

I want to be intimate with you
Not bare bodied and touching
But a different sort
I want to see your soul as it is
Stripped down into nothing
Your demons in their raw existence
I want to hold each one on its own
Until I can understand how it feels to live them
I want to hear your voice scratchy and strained at 3am
And listen as words fall from your mouth into mine
Late night thoughts and questions
I want to learn your mind like it is the only book I will ever read
Memorize it top to bottom like it is my bible
You are enough religion for me to understand why we're here
I want to understand you
I want your dreams to come to me like I can make them real
Tell me your secrets like I am the journal you have been hoping to find
The empty pages you have been waiting to fill your whole life
I want to know it all
I want to know your fears
Your worries
Your happiness
And everything that keeps you up at night
I want to be the thing that keeps you up at night
I want to be the morning sun that you cannot wait to wake to
And when you do,
I will continue to get to know you better

I don't need your hands on me
Or your skin against mine
To be close to you
The best form of intimacy
Is loving someone without knowing how it feels
To touch them without clothes on
The best form of intimacy
Is realizing you can open yourself up completey without holding anything back
The best form of intimacy
Is laughing and not caring at all how you sound
The best form of intimacy
Is talking for minutes that turn into hours that turn into tomorrow
The best form of intimacy
Is time spent wasting
The best form of intimacy
Is moments
Is patience
Is devotion and commitment
With no guarantee of satisfaction
It is surrender
It is vulnerability
It is now
The best form of intimacy
Is quiescence
It is the purest method
Of affection.