please help
us fragile
human creatures
to remember
our dreams

What's usually blemished considered a sin
Your accent marks on porcelain skin
Each crafted by caring clean hands
Crafted like a Persian Carpet
Each imperfection intended
So imperfectly perfect
Rich, pale, silk tapestry

Lily pads that dot a foreign river
Falls last leaves on Winters first snow
Paint splattered on white canvas
Each inch speckled
Every crevice freckled  
I'll find each one you wear

The Astrology of your body
Making constellations with my finger
Your back is Gemini
Orion on your shoulder
Leo for your inner thigh
Serpens, Sextans, Ursa Minor
Late night skies for lonely eyes

You pull at my hair.
You pull at my teeth.
You spit at my back.
You say you care.

I give you my hair.
I give you my teeth.
I smile at your lies.
I tell you I care.

You wipe my tears.
You hold my hand.
You are yourself,
the source of my fears.

You cause my tears.
You pull at my arm.
I am not myself.
Take away your mirrors.

I don't know you- but if I could I would hold  onto every moment like how you hold onto your pencil when you write.
There is something  in your words that create an ever repeating echo in my heart... oh I wish I knew you, I wish I knew.
You don't know me, but maybe you've read words that I've typed and they have washed upon your soul, on your mind.

I feel like I've glimpsed into some secrete hollow of your life.
As if stumbling onto your poem was meant to occur.. but I'll stay on the edge of my seat and only know you though my reads.

That's all that can happen- that's all that can be- for a poets mind, heart,
and soul are dark
                         and deep.

I see you smile but you're not really happy
I hear you ask but you don't want to know
I hear you talk but nothings' being said
I watch you laugh buy you don't think it's funny
I see you cry but they aren't really tears
I watch you get up but you're not really awake
I see you go to sleep but you aren't really resting

So you're alive but are you really living?

I want to tell you a million things.
A million stories,
But I am afraid.
Afraid once I start I won't stop.
Afraid you won't care.
Afraid that when I look into those brown eyes I'll see
only see my reflection and nothing more.
Afraid that when you hear all the
bad, that when I reach for you,
as I often do, you will turn away.
As they often do.

Love is patient, love is kind. Yet I’m stuck in this invisible box like a mime,
deciding whether or not I’m short on time or if this is stepping over the line.
The whole truth is everything about you makes my sun shine.
Even if it is hopeless, a short run and your never mine.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. But this **** inside of me needs to be said aloud. And honestly I am proud of you whom I have found.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking. In my thoughts you are always creeping. There have been other nights where I did not feel like sleeping but with you I forget what I’m keeping and try so very hard even though the floor is wet, it is seeping; And yes, sadly yes, there is weeping.

It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. I don’t not have a notebook in my head where I get angry and hate you; They are but only songs. With different tones and voices all of which make me wonder to you am I where it belongs?

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. This you have shared, stronger than any vermouth and I am happy you have done so even if I am sad and no I don’t need proof. Saw the positive, and it’s stuck in a booth. 21 years young, but it still makes me want to pull out my tooth

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Nothing more to add for this I have.
Love never fails. Sometimes it just gets covered in veils.

I believed it,
Then it happened
And it astonished me.

I wanted
You to notice
How adult I could be.

A simple
Word for comfort,
I thought would make you mine.

Now she wears
Your devotion
While my hopeless heart still pines.