Can I ask you a question?

Yeah sure.

No like one of those serious questions that most people never bring up on dates.

Okay.

What are you looking for in a future husband?

Well, first off, none of that typical stuff, like giving me roses. Not every girl loves roses. And if you give me those I know you don't know me. I'd rather have the purple and pink flocks that grow wild on the side of the road.

And if you're going to buy me jewelry, don't. I'd rather go to a destination than get a diamond.

And I don't want you to say I love you without your eyes speaking it too.

And don't complement me on how I'm pretty. Because if the only thing you can find positive about is is that I'm pretty then I've failed. I want to be so much more than pretty.

And if we're in public don't think you have to always touch me or claim me as your own. No insecurity. You should know I'm loyal without me showing physical affection infront of everyone.

But most of all, I want a man who I can believe in, root for, support and have the courage to not limit me to a wifely role but take me as his companion, his partner in crime.

Never below, never above, beside.

If you are the sun, then i want to be the moon and reflect the light that shines from you.
If you are sand, I want to be the sea and run myself all over you wild and free.
If you are coffee then I want to be the cream that makes you sweeter.
If you are a candle, I want to be the wick that burns down on the inside of you.
If you are a page, then I want to be the ink that gives you a voice.

Do you love me or are you lonely?
If you are lonely keep me but if you love me let me go.
Because a long time ago lonely took the place of love and with you that's all I will ever know.

"But why?" He asked, "Why can't we just mess around and see where it goes."

"Because I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I intend to keep."

"What's that?" He asked.

"To never love anyone who treats me like I'm ordinary."

And with that she walked away with confidence, knowing that now he never will.

Something remarkable happens when for a brief moment you forget that it is very possible to fail. - When a moment of brave prideful courage overcomes you and you feel like you can consume the world. You take it personally, like a mantra bubbling up from your being, "I can fix it! I can fix it!!" But so many times when we get to the problem our courage is replaced with doubt; the mantra sinking into the crevices of where it hidden again. Within us. Waiting to be birthed. Waiting to fix, something.

I think that all writing comes out of pain. Every remarkable work harnesses compassion or strain that begs you to empathize with the pain that someone-something, has felt. It is pain that has taken another form, it appears differently in plots and characters; pawns in a sense, that grace the game board of life. Nonetheless, pain is present. The Bible. A God's suffrage for grace of an undeserving people. Shakespeare's sonnets that brought us to our knees with the agony of lost love.-a lover's sorrow. In every classic there is a tugging on our heart strings that invokes a reply of our emotions.

                       In short, Pain is Poetry.