it seems now my clouds are grey
incomplete thoughts that often tame the sky
calming the waters that wade in my eyes
as the sun kisses the sea
here I abide by the silence that waits for me
thinking it’s you in disguise
in my hands is where your heart lies
after filling your ears with my words
that leave you in a solitude of bliss
joyful noises fill the sound
my love for you becomes profound
I wander in the arms of the tainted truth
when all I wanted was proof

You hear the thud.
Put on your dressing gown, rub your eyes.
And wearily approach the door, wondering what it could be.
Another bill, another promotion in a cunning disguise?

But there it is, dressed elegantly in plain white,
With the stamp placed perfectly on the right.
You see the swirls in the handwriting,
The way they flick the k’s and how they curl their c’s.

You try to guess who sent this wonderful surprise
You pick it up with care and, for an instant, freeze
Then you abandon all restraint, and rip it apart
Desperate to read what’s at its heart.

It takes thought and love to write.
In a world full of texts, facetimes and calls.
A letter hits the spot just right.

A short story, addressed to you
And only you
A little piece of history lies in your hand
Keep these letters

Store them safely away
For they will fill your heart with joy
When you re-read them on a melancholy day
Next time you are at a loss  for something to do
I beg of you, put down that phone
Take out a pen and write a letter or two.

I am afraid that you are falling in love with the expectations you have of me

While you ignore the toxic version of me
The loud, broken, desperate version of me

You don’t really see me, you see job offers
a few kids, a wedding ring, new homes, new cars  
While you ignore my deep scars

I am afraid you are falling in love with who you want me to be

While ignoring the real me, the trauma suffering, addict struggling, broken soul, who is afraid to love

You are ignoring the angry man who needs therapy but decides it’s better to feed his anger and throw his emotions at the end of liquor bottles

The man who your mother warned you would break your heart.
I am a victim of my pain, but you ignore that because you see something within. You want me to be that perfect man of your dreams, that you forget to face your nightmares

You hide my scars, feed me compliments while preaching to me about your biological timeline, lying and telling me everything will turn out fine if I find a job that makes a lot of money, bought a new car, a new home with a picket fence, change my accent, dress and act a certain way   
Please don’t try to save me
Save your imagination for thinking it can transform me to meet your expectations

I am me and I am to be loved like me

He was known for a puzzling idée fixe
for literature in an array of topics;
Not a citizen of particular themes.
Given to a pursuit of this literary ENTERPRISE,
he would hermit away and ravenously read,
which left him with a pale VISAGE.
He'd dealt with comments of its PERNICIOUS effects,
putting a BLEMISH on his social standing.
Yet, it didn't DAMPEN his spirit.
He didn't shy from upgrading to a learned man.
A mixture of books granted him entrance to
TRAVERSE an ever transforming road,
for which weather had no dampener on.
He was a SENTRY of his own mind,  
following the ASTRAL bodies in the night sky,
to channel knowledge into dreams.

In a garden filled by inky night
she reads by fairy firelight
with dreams of magic and of cheer,
in a land when fantasy draws near.

Where unicorns flutter in mid-air,
and fairies shimmer with stardust hair.
Dragons twirl brazenly in a silky clouded sky,
while knights suited on horseback stoutly ride by.

Grinning trolls armored with riddles creep
to divert from their overgrown castle's keep.
The moon princess softly trills a serenade,
and frolics in an open cornflower filled glade.

Flaxen mermaids with encrusted combs of stone
sit on tufts of a verdant seaweed throne
whispering tales of prized treasures aglow
buried deep beneath in the sea below.

Stars blanket in the velvet overhead
as she sits and savors the legends read.
The sights found in writings all retold
are worth more to her than pirate's gold.