If I wrote some words over here.

                    And then some more over here.
                                Would you realize that I

            Am trying to tell you

That
     I

Love you?

The unlayering of a soul
Like the drawback of an old beautiful curtain
Dusty and covered in a masquerade of golden tassles
Hiding the depth behind
And when they uncover
Unmask
Choose to perform
My eyes and heart are captivated
By the magic that is in stuttering toungues and loud cackles
Long stories and love poems


I came to tell my story
And my ears were much happier after
Having soaked in the noise of humanity
The sound of souls
A room full of souls


And I have been in those empty rooms before
Those rooms silent and eager for more space
Rooms echoing with soulless disconnection
And these people are not soulless but they do not give themselves up
don't give themselves freedom to be those souls

And I can only relate to people who have that soul
Who have the depth the expanse, the mind, the breadth to express
Their innermost pains, joys
And a room that is soulfull
Accepts
And a drawback of curtains
Assumes no judgement
For why would there be?
What would there be to judge?

I used to cry about feeling like a stranger in my own home
Then feeling guilty for being sorry for myself
And throwing up a pity party when no other life is better than mine
and so many people have it worse in many ways
we know what it feel like to live in a world where you feel you never belong
Then to be faced with a room, heart beating a mile a minute, knowing the curtains will be drawn back and you will have to face the music of your own

I saw a woman today, with a face filled with so much love it was glowing
A love that made me want to love everything
And I know everything isn’t what it seems
But poetry is all about that seem
That perspective
From afar


As my arrow gets pulled far back into depths of deep internal demons
I am now being tossed into the universe
Endlessly
No aim
Fired off into the moving air
I feel like a plastic bag
Im flying by city lights
And city dreams
Hoping for answers hidden in the trees


Sunflowers have been planted
But it will be winter soon
Roots are growing, sprouting little buds of green
Not blooming yet
But there is growth
And strength in the little brown sprouted roots

I wish I could tell you I’m a loner
No more, whenever I need your hands
And lips holding every part of me, and
Shredding my threshold because this is just
A guard I build to keep people from invading
Our heaven, I wish I could shout and sing to the world
Our songs of love, they find freakishly weird,
Because they haven’t seen a love like this and lovers
Like we’re going to be, I would write in every inch of this
Air, and sand, and river, and sky,
About how I’m at loss of words to explain this feeling
Because with you, I’m not me and my words are not
Mine anymore, but just your smell and touch
I long to explore and explain to thousand stars and
Raindrops, just to prove that their beauty fails so
Horribly before your hazel eyes, and I know
Even petrichor would shy against your fragrance,
So I don’t have concrete answers whenever you ask
“what are we” and “what is this feeling”
Because I don’t know,
I don’t know how you turn my blood and bones
Into a wild whisper and I don’t know
Why your thoughts are enough to let a smile
Brew around me, because with you, I’m
Not me and my words are not mine anymore.

I was always afraid of darkness,
but then I realized the only thing I was afraid of,
was my mind.

c.f.

I have so many words
crammed inside my head
words on words
no pattern
just words
a disjointed jumble.
As I shove them out
of my head
onto paper
more appear
faster than I can write.
My words
borrowed words
words of geniuses
words of drunks.
Someone once told me
words are powerful
if you know how to use them
but I don't
so I have no power
just a crowded head
filled with disjointed
words.

My own affection
Has all direction
But no ability
For real correction
As it shoots straight on
To its sole target;
No time to rethink,
Just some to regret.

My thoughts are scattered all over the place
Sad corn, bad dreams, no diploma, brown leaves..
I want to be  h a p p y  for you but I can't be today
there's just a kind of stuffiness inside of my brain
but don't cry for too long, please don't worry I'll
get back to normal, soon things won't be so blurry.

Do you remember my wool sweater:
How the fibers used to catch on your wristwatch
And tangle themselves in the buttons on your checkered shirt?
Those loose threads said what I was too afraid to—
Don't let go;
Stay just a little longer.
Fiber after fiber, they unraveled,
Until that old wool sweater was tattered and frayed and scattered—
Softly curled strings on shirt edges and neckties,
A memory begging not to be forgotten.
Even after all this time,
I'd bet you still find specks of red on your pillowcases
Or on your jacket as you ride the bus to work.
I hope you do.

I could write and write, but it wouldn't change a thing
What's gone is gone + words are just words at the end of the day
Aren't they?