For him, I wouldn’t write
About his handsome face
Or the fluent way he walks
With that swift unfailing grace
‘Cause those little simple things
He shows to everyone
I’d love to write about all that
Which he has shown to none
Like the way he tilts his head
And frowns into the distant sky
When he either smelled or thought about
Something particularly vile
Or how he sometimes murmurs
When he’s dreaming and asleep
And brings me closer to his chest
When vivid nightmares make me weep
Then there’s also the way he smiles
In that amused way when I get mad
Or how he scowls when he sees
Anyone wearing yellow plaid
And when we’re all alone
He’d sing some ****** songs
In the shower, in the kitchen
Once, wearing crimson thongs
So no, I wouldn’t write
About all those others could see
I would rather write about the things
He shows to only me.

Just close your eyes, for only then will you be able to see
remove yourself from the limitations, true belief is the key
you must search for that which can see, but cannot be seen
but know that it exists within you, this, your spiritual screen

Perhaps we call it the soul, unhindered by physical limitations
helping us throughout life, despite preconceived expectations
yet few really wish to explore, this hidden truth residing within
perhaps afraid past indiscretions may surface, memories of sin

Yet we really owe it to ourselves, finding this true good is what we all seek
but without looking in the right place, our mood will forever remain bleak
we must escape the lies the world feeds us, only then will our journey begin
no longer seeking answers, because we'll find them hidden in our hearts within

So the only remaining hurdle we must overcome, is this fear of the unknown
but it seems in our ignorance, too often we think it resides in the twilight zone
then know that this world is but a reflection, imagination lacking clarification, and see
that this is why, more often than not, differences in this world are measured by degree

Guided by this light within, we can never go too far away from our true source of life
only then will we have the power to walk that divine path, by collectively avoiding strife
internal insights, as human beings, in His Image we've been created, we're part of the divine
that means we have the power, world redemption is close at hand, we need only read the Sign

There's an explosion of motion
When you own the portion
Reciprocating fish swim through the ocean
Compromising earned positions
absorbed efforts and confiding pawns
Morally right, lost, fully wrong
No matter if bestowed or too long
Taking care by growing strong

Skin and bones,
She'd break with stones.

Starving for perfection,
Dreading her rejection.

Paper thin,
Brittle winter sins.

Kiss her in the rain
Before she leaves for her plane
Just like a movie, but with more pain
You better hurry she's going east
She is your true beauty, to your depressed beast
Wipe those tears away, its making your vision...
Shhh blurry
This shouldn't be a hard decision
no wonder why your chest is so heavy
Will you stay the night and make amends
Will you become more than friend
Will you go now before it all ends.

I was born January 30th, which might explain my stares that are as cold as a winter night. People assume that since I am five foot eight, I should be intimidating although I'm the furthest from it.
You see, I have this vice where I chew off my fingernails when I get nervous. I suppose it's because I've somehow convinced myself that if my fingernails become minimized, my anxiety would too.
I know it sounds absurd but I enjoy laughing really hard at poorly composed jokes for absolutely no good reason. And, although I don't allow myself to cry as often as I should, it reminds me that I've still got fixing to do.
My mind works like a treadmill. Things are always coming back to bite me no matter how far I run.
I'm still running.
I'm still learning how to whisper.
You see, when it comes to talking about myself, I shout! I'll talk to anyone who will listen. However, even though I seem to open up easily, I have a fear of people getting close enough to hear my heartbeat.
I have this odd fascination with nature. I assume it's because no matter how persistent I am, the trees never argue back. I don't like being alone but when it's just me around the flowers blooming, the wind blowing, and the bees buzzing, I can feel my heart growing fonder.
I've never liked the idea of the military but I have this purple heart. I got it from beating myself up over things I have no control over.
Hi, my name is Emily and I'm still trying to figure myself out.
My hobbies include over-thinking until I give myself a migraine, blurting out my life story, and trying to convince my mind that my heart is worth listening to.

I want to wake up to a new sunrise every day.
Let me taste a culture, let it be bittersweet on my lips,
As new terrains scar the soles of my boots.
I want a map with faded, ravished, old ink,
To guide me where to go, where to be, who to be.
Let it erase my regrets, let it create a new person.
All the past is gone; here’s to new beginnings.
I want  magnificent, sweeping adventures with my eyes open,
Waking to unfamiliar words, an unfamiliar life.
Give me restless cities, petite villages, rocky terrains.
As long as I am everywhere, my eyes will not sleep.