I'm in love , really
I'm in love with the sound of my voice
I can spend hours talking and listening

I'm in love with the way I walk
With the way my hair moves

I'm in love with my reflect
when you look at me in the morning
When you look at me in the night

I'm in love with the me that you love

The ride of the tide,
A change in its shape,
It's soft glow in the dark...

It seeks the blackness
*And consumes it.

My walls are crumbling,
My world shakes,
And Shatters in shards;
The stones they fall,
Raining down on my dreams,
As I find my throat and scream.

I thought of you today,
Of how you hurt me,
Of how I left you.
The days we loved,
And when I cried;
The days we stayed away,
*When I could finally find my smile...

We are silent film directors partitioned into different reels of reality. Quietly yelling sign language in the direction of creating something more than ourselves. If silence were love my poetry would walk away without you.

We're but a collection of monochrome films,
each it's own color.
Pixels on a screen,
giving life its big animated motion picture.

You are the absence of color in our cinema screen;
white.
I am the absorption or combination of all combined;
black.
So why then, when reflected through a prism your light
gives a rainbow?
It must be the light versus a color, without the light there is
no Technicolor.

We're but a composition of a continuous film,
and ensemble of the cinema of life.