[untitled.]

she makes me want to pluck the sun out of the sky
have it gift wrapped
with a big frilly bow
and left on her doorstep
in honor
in hope that she'll love me back.

she makes me think
I should climb a mountain
and I could
and would
just to get her a drink
of the clearest water
she's ever had
touch her lips

yeah it's that bad.

it's because she makes me soar
on the days
[especially the days]
when my heart,
and head
can't take anymore.

it's because she can finish a sentence
I haven't even started yet.

it's because even when we
shudder and quake
shiver and break
when we've taken all we can take,
our hearts and minds
combined
rip up dictionaries,
throw the pieces to the floor,
and roll around
until the right words stick
and just as quickly as we shattered,
all the things that mattered in the first place
are back in their place
and we are whole
and holy.

and what do I do when a girl
who makes me this happy
falls into my lap and says
"see?"

and suddenly makes me see.

for the first time, I see.

I see the beauty of sun rays
pouring through my window, like a gift.
curtains there to block out the sun,
but still the light finds little places
to slip through
and I'm amazed
at how the patterns undo
me.

I see the
bluest blue sky
and it reminds me of the times
when she held me
with words
like security blankets
until I made it through
to the other side
where she was waiting
with her whole heart
held out
mine for the taking..

and I see that we can never be
except during all the hours, days, weeks,
when we are.
who knew arms could reach this far
because if you ask me,
I'll tell you
yes.

I feel her skin against mine
our heartbeats beating
not in time
but in harmony.
filling in the spots where the other gets weak
because it's a love that doesn't speak
but sings
and reminds you of your favourite song
when you were seven

the one that gets into
the empty parts of your soul
and makes you want to dance
how you dance
when no one is watching..

of you

I know so many of the parts of you

the emo girl
with dashboard confessionals
providing a soundtrack,
while we chase the ghosts
of all the good things.

the soul queen
living in theory
with scarves in her hair
like jill scott and lauryn hill

the hood
playing that awful
john legend song
that no one understands
why I can't get more
than 30 seconds into it

the saboteur
taking our hearts,
which have been sponges
that spent 3 years collecting
us,
and squeezing out
every last drop.

the girl
interrupted
by the way
life
actually is.

the leo
stubborn
to your face
no apologies
no regrets

the bohemian
declaring
"no day but today!"
and living
during the breaths
between lines
of songs.

the girl with a guitar
a fast car
and a pen
that continues
to scrawl graffiti
on my body
and my heart
all through
the longest of decembers.

the artist
painting
canvases of
yesterday
and tomorrow.

the muse
inspiring
hearts to
take flight.

the little bird
who lets
me in
and lets
me hold her,
gently yet firmly
cupped in my hands,
while her wings heal
after she's fallen
from the
next empty nest.

the unspoken love
with her
hand in mine
and our lives
tied with string,
once
severed and
burned,
later picked back up
tied with every knot
and reinforced
with the rope
found in the backroom
of the thrift store of
our hearts
as they start
to beat as one again.

all of these things I know.
all of these things I hold.
all of these things are sacred.
all of these things are us.