What is it like to take a stroll? beyond transient thoughts and thy control through unfathomed labyrinths of thy mind to perceive dimensions lost in time realms conceived be sketched in shards concealed within thy house of cards thoughts evolved through collapse and creation to discern fragments of thy imagination among an eternity of realities confiscated as poetry in my mind it thus manifested

“Always” Some people, some feelings, some moments lost in time, run timelessly through your veins and scars. Too precious, too innocent, too nostalgic to let go. Even if you have settled for a different reality. Eventually they become the song you avoid, or the song that makes you smile with a glisten in your eyes. Sometimes they drip out of your fingertips. On to paper.

Your second one.. —

~You know I don’t talk much~ words don’t arrive at my tongue so easily as they do to my fingertips~ but maybe we are meant to fill the silences with cuddles and kisses~ and at tea time I’ll read you poetry~ you say you like my letters~ but I never seem to find words beautiful enough to describe how much you mean to me~ guess my feelings for you are too big to drip outta my fingertips~ you are the best thing that happened to me~ if this doesn’t work I don’t know what will~

A poem — Sing to me I’ll dance with your demons Kiss me I’ll drink your poison Hold me I’ll graciously crumble Keep intoxicating me I’ll bleed your name among pages

My unsolicited confessions — I didn’t tell the stars I’m reddened-eyesore for your herculean demeanor, a blooming moonflower wanting to entwine in the comfort of your deific arms powerlifting my hallowed world over your eclipsed shoulders. My oceans rise and fall to your gravitational librations; you have me bound, tenderly, ragingly, to your celestial…

Letters I never sent — You call yourself a beast but your gentle brown eyes glisten every time your dilapidated childhood heart bleeds of a time when your knees were scraped and skinned against the caked up concrete screaming for sanctified shooting stars and searching for all the love you lost in every corner of…

I told the stars about you; How I adore you, Cry for you, Crave you, Spill ink for you. The stars said to me; "The moon loves you back"

poem — Wring these pages So ink would drip And you could pick up my soul And have a sip Let me intoxicate you, darling