You are my pink skies with candy floss clouds

My open fields flooded far and wide with cherry blossoms

and green feathered sparrows singing tunes of your favourite songs that sound kinda-something-sorta like your voice,

The walls in my castle populated perfectly with portraits of you

and you already know portraits are my favourite.

Somehow my imagination bound beautifully with my reality such that I could tell no difference.

You are my Utopia.

But utopia is subject to interpretation.

You like candy floss occasionally, pink is not your favourite colour and I do not even know what your favourite flower is

Without forgetting to mention, you prefer beaches.

You like puns, peaches, foxes and fairies but my world has none of that, I want to accept those but you will not have it any other way.

I want our worlds to collide but in a more subtle way, but when that kinda thing happens it is almost always apocalyptic

So, what is yours will never be mine and what is mine you do not even want at all.

My utopia sounds like it belongs in a book, but we all know how long that lasts.




*Be sure to check out Utopian Dystopia Pt. 2!

At this point I am so disconnected from myself

that if one day I ever decided to take my own life

it would be premeditated ******.

The countless midnights I've spent with tears running down my cheeks,

Wishing you were next to me and I trying to imagine the tender touch of your palms against mine,

I sit here madly in love with you but I'm wishing I could unlove you,

If only one could fall out of love as fast as one plummets into it,

But gravity only pulls downward.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

But roses aren't really red they're kinda this weird shade of apple

And violets are far from blue, they're actually purple

See these are the lies we tell ourselves so the rest of our stories make sense,

Like I keep telling myself that "I love you's" are best said in twos

But I think the chances of that these days are about as good as trying to find a violet that's actually blue so

In that case

Roses are apple

Violets are purple

Good luck trying to finish that one

Because my "I love you's" are lonesome.

You ain't ever gonna know what it's like

Watching painfully from a distance

Your story as a romance film

Where I am both the writer and the viewer

But someone has taken away my pen

And put your film on rerun

Not knowing how painful it is to watch.

Oh Father, if this is hell then show me the way so I may absolve my sins and wash away this punishment.

Amen.

she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.

We will carry this silence between us

And let the atmosphere tell our story

Because we both know we won't.

I love you is too generous for you

And I hate you is too permanent for me

And we've both agreed there's no in between.

So we will carry this silence between us.

As the atmosphere tells our story

Where we will both be waiting

For one of us to break the silence.