people always represent love with roses
for the simple fact of a flower with thorns
because love can hurt.
there is yelling
and there is hurt
and there are times where all we do is cry
but i cry those tears for you,
and we apologise to each other (although too much)
and at the end of the day youre mine
and youre mine
and i would give the world to be nearer to you
in a heartbeat
i would give everything.
for you.

i had my heart broken
what felt like one too many times
in my short life on earth,
and although i resented those who broke it,
and resented myself more for allowing it all to happen,
over and over and over...
it was worth it
seeing as i have my love,
and he loves so hard,
and so fully,
and i feel it so deep within myself
it makes me cry.

it was all worth it to have you.

i am comforted by thoughts of him,
the fire inside my soul when he's on my mind
is far more comforting than i could have thought.
and the way these thoughts present themselves to me,
can be a lot to handle,
and i dip inside myself
and god do i wish it was him instead,
to lay over me
and share in this passion in togetherness,
rather than in two separate places,
alone.
and although poetic now,
the act of touching,
is almost entirely lacking
in poeticism.

tiny, she was 8 years old,
and she asked,
"do you hate me?
is the reason youre so cruel to yourself
because you hate me?
am i the reason youre so mean?
is this my fault?"
and i hugged her,
and i cried,
and i said "no.
i could never hate you.
it could never be your fault.
i didnt mean to make you think that it was."

if there's a space in front of me,
why not jump?
if there's a pen in front of me,
why not write?
if there's a rope in front of me,
why not pull?
if there's a note in front of you,
why not read?
...
and if your arms are open for me,
why
not
jump?

the hands on clocks,
they follow me endlessly,
and when i think i have the time to rest,
the hands, they catch up,
and i am on the run again.

but you take my hands into yours and we run,
and now time catching up feels not so scary,
because at least im running from time less alone.
at least im running away with you in dreams.

the hands on clocks,
they follow me endlessly,
and when i think i have the time to rest,
the hands, they catch up,
and i am on the run again.

but you take my hands into yours and we run,
and now time catching up feels not so scary,
because at least im running from time less alone.
at least im running away with you in dreams.