I've never been in love, but it must be like waking up from a lovely dream.
It's probably something like a road trip without a destination.
I hope it's that feeling in your stomach as the roller coaster is dropping, electricity coursing through your veins.
Maybe it's like a camera, freezing moments that feel like forever.
I bet its something like the glittering embers in the sky, just after a firework burst into a dozen lights.
I'm sure love is like a constellation, where you can connect the dots to create a story.
Love must be like rain drops on a window, accumulating slowly, then racing to the brim of the frame.
I think love is like an eclipse. The sun and the moon circling the globe, in search of each other. And when they finally meet, the world stops to watch.
For me, I know love is a dusty typewriter, waiting for its story to be written.

If you cut her open
I'm almost positive
that you'll choke on a cloud
of cigarette smoke
and glitter.

Then when you look back
on this sorry life,
you'll see a teenage girl
who watches too much TV
and smokes too much ****.

When you see what she went through
and how she brushes it all off,
you'll see her quietly in her room
sobbing,
roughly swallowing those tiny pills.

But she'll get back up,
you'll remember
how every day she'll jokingly
talk about her imminent demise
but do you ever see the truth behind it?

She just wants to have fun,
but the damage that was done to her
****** it all up,
so then the fun
turns into an outlet to forget.

With all the flashing lights she sees
to the flashbacks she endures,
to the strangers she welcomes
to the strange ones she avoids,
she does it all with a cynical smile.

This girl will continue to burn her insides
and pop those
sweet pills,
she'll down that liquid that
burns her throat, to make her smile.

So if you cut her open
I'm almost positive
you'll find charred organs
and confetti.
She's a whir of reality and euphoria.

Kiss goodbye these cold metal lips
That once showed showed us
The color red,
The liquid state,
A lesson in psychology and anatomy
That once was a friend
An answer to a question never asked
They left their kiss marks on our arms and legs
Never to be washed off
But rather than haunt us,
The markings will serve as reminders
Of the war we fought,
The hell we went through,

And survived.

If I died tomorrow,
I'd want my ashes to be spread around the world.
Even though I'm not there,
I could visit the places I wanted to go.

I love the way your great brown eyes light up when you beat me at a game.
Your eagerness to teach me chess is nothing short of perfect.
Whatever movie  I suggest to watch, you will always agree and sit by my side.
And when I bake cupcakes, or burn them or destroy them, no matter what, you will munch on them and insist they are fine.
My favorite is when I sing a line to a song, and you hum the tune throughout the day, like a small bird.

A thousand broken hearts lay at her feet...

How different it must feel, when this one is her own

She was the moon.
Fair, serene, and powerful.
He was the sun.
Luminous, warm, and strong.
Unknowingly chasing each other around the globe,
Growing weary,
Becoming hopeless,
Until an eclipse.
And the whole world stopped to watch,
as the pair met in the ebony sky.

The quiet color gray
Is bashful and shy
Doesn't have much to say
And likes to be passed by

Lives to dance
Between colors and hues
But when given the chance
Gray can impress you.