“Who am I to write about love when I don’t know the very definition of it, It seems, love itself does not favor me.”

If this should end in fire come, fill this desire.

It is not the world I fear but what becomes of me; when you disappear so understand it is you I cannot sacrifice with you in my life-I’ll suffice.

If you are a painter my love, then I will be your writer.

Tell me about the city you grew up in, how you like to take your tea let me see the world through your eyes; be the muse to my literacy.

In the cold you left me, that is how my love for you came to be.

You shall have all that is in this garden.

I loved you as Icarus loved the sun, too close, too much.

I want a love that meets me half way. A love filled with chivalry as if it were written in old days.

In each passing day, I hope I love you less but somehow this love stays and my heart is yours nonetheless.

If I can have what I want then I’d have the stars the moon, the skies and a love where it shines through your eyes.

This spring along with flowers, I hope you bloom as my love has, one season too soon.

For the rest of my life I will stay by his side. A union this world could never divide.

In my heart where I’ve built a wall, you grew loving vines in my days of doubts and gray clouds, you said; “in my eyes, darling you shine” Maybe you loved me then but I know, I loved you too late.

In your song let me be the words & in two we don’t have to sing in thirds.

Come & see how my heart came to be it is bare for you to see as proof these poems are the tangible forms of my heart.

You said I was sunshine breaking shadows into your night.