You pointed out
all my favorite love stories begin in hatred
an offhand comment about the books and shows
I consume like air

I realized there's nothing I want more
then for someone to see me for my worst
pick apart every negative attribute

yet still promise to love me
all of me

she was your wife
she misses you
she doesn't want to just be the smoke from your lungs
escaping into the winter air
but what i fear
is that im the cigarette
that you bring to your lips
then toss out the window
when you're finished.

What is water, but a constant fluctuating body of emotions. What is fire, but a loud roar spreading faster than anything known. What is earth, but the very grounding stability needed to live appropriately. What is air, but the very oxygen we need to survive. What are we, but souls on a physical journey, trying to discern what we can and can’t do or say, not realizing the self-imposing rules and habits that ultimately destroy us before the epiphany of life reveals itself, broadcasting the way we have chosen to live. Right or wrong, black or white, this or that... are simply illusions. Do not despair - illusions are made to be shattered.

cold sweat trickled down her spine,
gasping reluctantly for air penetrated
her thoughts, but it was just;
she beamed upwards to sight the welkin,
relinquished— she stopped abruptly.

her silent presence
all-encompassing
wrapping you in her warm arms.

the whisper of her, teasing
oh-so-close

she's your lifeline
without her you struggle to live
she's the very breath
of this wide earth

bottled up,
just for you.