We, too.

We looked at the flowers and all the city streets had to offer.
I look at all the people and found them beautiful.
I looked at him and he was even more beautiful.
His mind was like a rubiks cube,
everything didn't match and
I liked it that way.

Wreckage

He brings a certain peace to the storm
I've been fighting for eighteen years.
He doesn't calm it in its
entirety but parts of it are
easier when he's around.
The wreckage of my heart
looks more like abstract art
when I look at it through
his eyes, not exactly clear
what it conveys but incredibly
transparent in the way it makes you feel.

Ghost Town

I could feel his eyes running rampant over me.
I was always afraid to meet his gaze,
with every glance he could burn through my memories
and feel what I had felt.
Too bad my poker face was lost with all the hurt.
Now that he is gone most of me is gone as well.
Being with him shook every molecule I was ever
composed of.
It was a thrill I hated to lose,
now that he is no where to be found
my thoughts oscillate around freedom
and going home.
Is staying with someones memory worth losing parts of you?
It might even be worse to go home coping with conformity,
flirting with familiarity.
Anyways I think I might stay,
I still see his wild eyes and feel his fierce heart around this town.

Too Far.

The ugliest parts of my soul don't seem so bad when I'm with you.
Even though it might not make sense,
I know I can hold onto your truth.
You love my heart and you won't stop.
Your love goes past the broken
and tells me I'm not lost.
Your light hits me hard
and calls me home.
Your love claims me
and says I'm not
too far gone.

We.

I could feel his hesitancy as we walked.
It was as if we were dancing around a ticking time bomb.
 
           "Have you ever been in love?" he asked me.

It was such a simple yet complicated question.
To be in love and to love someone are completely different.
I have no doubt I have loved many.
To love someone is to take a third party perspective,
observing, learning, and enjoying how they interact with life.
You love watching them love and break when they are broken.
But you are still afraid to be thrown into the vortex of love with them,
fearing for your life rather than the other person's.
To love someone is to be afraid of commitment, benefits without love.
To be in love with someone you are sucked into the cyclone of life,
instead of fearing for your sanity you war for that person's protection.
Your love is not requited with you are with them.
To be in love is to give and take.
To be in love with someone you are convinced life without them would be
horrifically dull.
To be in love is to admit you love them a bit more than you love yourself.

   All these thoughts jumped through my mind.
 Then I looked back at my life.
  All the adventure, heartbreak, and wisdom I had encountered over the years
  and was surprised at my own answer to his question.
            "I have not..."

                                      And with that, we kept walking.