There are rains that are constant. There are storms that seem to never end.
I have been enthralled in both.
I have partaken in insults as well as boasts.
My life is not innocent of judgement nor malice.
Just as I am guilty of love.
I love too much at times. And I have judged myself for such.
Though I have now come to realize that love is not a weight that I carry in vain but in vein.
If I carry that cargo in abundance it is not heavy on my soul but lifting of my spirit.
It is not I that weigh heavy, it is you that may lack hope.
I live my life in reign of cherish.
I shall no longer chastise myself for virtue, when it is you that cries for succor.
I do my best to make that familiar effort. Now it is up to you to reach home.
Love is around me, and for you the same I wish for.
I don’t belong…
I speak a different language, I see things in a different way.
I’ve been told several times that no one will ever understand me.
I look into the mirror and am not sure of what I see.
I hurt. I hurt so much because I don’t belong.
A line was drawn.
I do speak a different language and see things in a different way.
I’m still, at times told that no one will ever understand me.
I still hurt.
But not for long.
I fall in love on a daily basis.
There’s so much in life to love.
I give of myself a bit too much at times.
But I have a lot to give.
I live to love.
I love to live.
This is how I get along.
Hope against Hope (a message from Love)
Your expression is unpredictable from its usual meaning.
But those manners are all in speech.
You place trust on desire.
A wish or longing for a want or craving.
However, demands can fall short of your requirements for the object at hand.
Your efforts may translate into a waiting game.
The solidity of trust may not be able to support itself around vaporous walls.
But alas, I am not here to judge or define your feeling.
By doing so I would be judging the definition of who you are.
I am not here for that.
I do wish to relate to you.
You’ve been an essential and fundamental element of life.
Biblically your connection with Faith and Love as eternal siblings is enchanting.
You are spoken of as lively, not frail nor perishable.
Your nominal beauty is simple.
Yet can posses such depth, depending on the language of it’s spokesperson.
The loss of you would result in an incurable void of optimism.
Your downfall would have a great affect on so many.
Just like your battle against yourself is greatly affecting your essence.
For it is that, that keeps us alive.
I’ve learned to loathe you.
I’ve hurt to love you.
I’ve met and lost you.
Time and time again.
I’ve cut and scraped you.
Left only with the sting
Of not reaching past the Surface.
I’ve dismissed you for a stranger,
Yet I’ve strangely missed you.
At times I never knew you,
Though I thought I felt you close.
I need and want you.
And I want you to need me to.
For just a single breath moment,
I thought I felt you.
My being opened up to receive all that might have been a part of you.
The Air that softly brushed against your cheek as you turned to glance at me.
Oh that Warmth, that ignites from your core and transcends through your breath
every time you call my name.
But once again,
you escaped me.
You vanished before my soul could make itself at home.
Before I had the opportunity to gleam and radiate over you.
I now find myself looking forward to the moment
When I can look into your eyes and become
Overwhelmed with the knowledge of your presence.
I have so much to tell you,
I have so much to give you.
Just a single eternal breath moment.
The sun comes up over a cloudy day.
Ponyboy has gone to bed.
Who wil fight for the cause now?
Am I the only outsider?
Hi there Mr. Tree.
Dancing with the Wind again I see.
Showered by the Sun beams.
Talking to the Birds and Bees.
Well there Mr. Tree,
Seems to me,
You’re very happy.
Your taste dances in my mouth.
The memory of you plays back to me like a piano.
Each key stroke igniting a sensory note.
The warmth, smoothness, soft moistness.
Palates were given the opportunity of sampling the one of a kind flavor.
The melody of your favorite song.
The delicateness of the wind brushing nature.
Art at it’s most beautiful.
Awkard, vulnerable, accompanied by a solid presence.
Causing both pupils and heart to blossom.
The product of it’s predecessors,
Creating a customized bouquet,
Packaged that so even with eyes shut I am able to envision.
I am able to transfer the scent to taste in a single gland.
I can feel comfort with your fragrance.
And with this perfume an array of gorgeous soundtracks follow.
Finally completing the perfection that is you.
I can breathe.
Air flowing through my lungs, into my body.
Disposing of toxins.
Beautiful, rich, heavenly air.
I am free.
Soaring within myself, floating above the unaware.
Able to acknowledge my strength my beauty.
Able to value my life.
Smiles stepping away from second nature and becoming natural.
I can breathe.
I don’t understand.
This state of peace should be unsettling.
I should be a visitor.
My smile is enhanced at every exhale.
Blood streaming through me is becoming sensational, no longer seasonal.
Language now more romantic and Romance is diminishing Obligation from Language.
Love is now tangible.
Not only can I give, I can receive.
But beyond that, I embrace it between those around me.
Beauty is no longer in the eyes of the beholder.
Beauty is in everything.
Song and Dance are descriptive features of Life.
Such an amazing Ballroom.
Es posible sentir el futuro.
Es posible conocer el sentido de lo que va a ocurrir.
Reconocer la tocada de un amor.
Tener la aseguranza de el sentido maravilloso,
que aun no a pasado.
Aguardar un lugar en el Corazon para lo que no es presente.
Sonreir cuando pensando de situaciones que a toda via no son memorias.
At first there was light.
And although the light of the First Day has and will always be with us,
It is now on our Eighth Day that we have become co-creators of its intensity.
Such process must begin within.
However, just as we were created together, we shall also create together.
One can reach the path of better understanding much easier if there are several of us there to guide each other in the right direction.
And when on that path we will illuminate with rewards for our previous journey.
As we continue our path, we feel the Winter caps begin to melt.
Embrace the warmth of love that Spring may bring.
The sense of growth develops a fragrant bouquet.
The illuminant rays from above sparkle the eyes and stimulate the body at all ends.
The soul solidifies, creating confidence in each step the physical makes.
Symbiotically we can be the challenging wind as well as the dynamic limb that navigates us through life.
Blessed I feel to be able to attach a name to each feather that forms the wings I have grown in this development.
For this, I thank you all and will carry you with me for a lifetime.
Engulfed in a thunderstorm,
but it is your eyes that make my body quiver.
Surrounded by lightning,
but it is your touch on my skin that ignites electricity.
The deafening thunder would never be able to drown out the sound of your breath.
Just like lightning could never compete with your warmth, which causes my skin to gravitate towards you.
For it is not cacophony in your delivery.
No, it’s the subtle and ever so beautiful way the words escape your lips.
That slight distinction is what makes your performance so powerful.
For it is not the stage that holds you.
No, you are like the detail in your drawings.
Filling the canvas with so much energy yet leaving me wanting more.
It is this that also shades the clouds above, giving them that depth and wonderment we all sigh in admiration of.
It is this that gives birth to the rain’s fragrance in which we all secretly want to bathe in.
It is this ability that gives paintings their grand expressional value.
It is this ability that gives songs their lyrical poesy.
Your luminance decorates the skies in both day and night.
For you are art.
I am witness to someone crying almost on a daily basis.
My heart’s senses are then triggered by my sight’s observation.
My imagination drowns in thoughts of unfortunate scenarios accompanied with empathetic memories of melancholic pasts.
As if the thorns of their pain have transported over to me in form of a minor sensory overload.
I want to cry for them, I want to hurt for them.
Remove their agony as if my body were to be a filter for the pain.
But alas, I come to an understanding that I can’t surgically remove pain.
And beyond the physical limitations, the act would be a selfish one.
To remove the pain would leave a void of that experience.
A void that cannot be replaced by a counterpart experience.
No, it is this that makes life ever so enigmatic.
And for me to attempt to shelter someone from that would be beyond pompous.
I would lose respect for myself and simultaneously disrespect my tearful subject.
I can however be participant to a process of awareness that would aid people’s emotional ailment without further disenfranchising them. And we could both learn a little something more about through this symbiosis.
It was nights like this that gave you birth.
It was nights like this that made me want to meet you.
It’s nights like this when I realize that you don’t exist.
I feel you close.
I know you’re there.
I feel you close.
Of this I’m aware.
I feel you close,
But then I scare.
As I watch you die before me…
I can feel my skin pulsating,
throbing around the barbed stinger piercing.
Warmth running through my body,
your pheromones intoxicating me.
Confused as to why you chose me.
Confused as to how you come from honey.
All of this is kind of saddening.
As I watch you die before me.