There is a massive distance
between her smile and tears
when she writes about the rain.
Because her faded dreams
put her mind at ease
behind the places
where she stands
in pain.

Sitting in the garden
where one finds love
in those eyes
that speak of alone.
She writes lines
which intrigue mysteriously.
You can see her words dance
where she's walked,
when dawn breaks
across the trees.

The inner deepness of her words
hold on to each cloud,
crying out to the depths
of our bones.  
They tell us our worst hours
contain the time outside
of her faded dreams
and that they too.....
will soon be gone.

When she writes about the rain
we smile
behind the places
where we stood in pain.  
You can see her words dance
where she's walked,
knowing......
they never speak
in vain.

No thoughts, concerns, hesitations.
Worries can wait.
Happiness shouldn't.
Despite how fleeting it may turn out to be.

I'm happy with him.
Happy enough to forget
about the clouds that have a tendency
to settle into the snug horizon.

He's like a red balloon
that keeps me looking up.
Distracted from all the cracks in the pavement
that make me trip.
Oblivious to the wavering skies.
Focused solely on keeping my eyes
on patterns of movements.
Memorizing this new thing.
Piloting something unknown.

Let's refrain from using maps that lead down past paths.
I'll use my sense of adventure to navigate my way.
Illuminate the trails
with the colors of your mind.
If I get lost, I'll anchor down in your arms.

Clutching each of these moments
with a ferocity that
most will never understand.

Let them question why
I'm staring at reflections of light
through a bit of plastic.
They'll never know
that you gave me rainbows.

All the more reason to look at the bright-side.

I brushed my hand across what you said
then remembered
the exact moment I discovered
my favorite hiding place
where my heart could take deep breaths
and move away from the shadows
speaking as echoes across my mind.  
I could feel them move far, far away
from my beating heart
taking me to heights
where I could escape to a better place,
I thought I'd never find.

The deepest pain.....all the hurt I feel,
becomes trivial in this journey
where I define myself
and rises above my existence
here in the solitude
I find
within this hiding place.
Here, my heart becomes softly addicted
to leaving behind
the complications which cling
to the railings
of all my inspiration
when I attempt to write
the song of a nightingale
and every bad memory.........
erase.

I'm still sure
your air is waiting
for me. You are thousands of miles
and things I can't hold.
But
I would
waste every Friday night on you.

You are fireworks
in my chest and
things I can't hold on to
are slipping between my toes as I walk
across them. You don't care
that you showed up and stamped
a small portion of my stomach
with your butterfly-shaped coil.
I want it off
gone
out
done
but I know you'll come back
and I want you to feel the outline of it.
That way you'll know I never stopped trying
never stopped caring.
I need you to care, too.

Your name is the loveliest word
I've ever said. In my life
I've never known someone like you.
Your aura is a quilt
that I could spend all day in
if you'd let me.
I think the chances of me meeting
another you are absurd
and I find the whole idea
to be terrifying.
I could make so much room
for you in my heart.