“Bound by rose thorns, pricked by love.”

Souls are more than their bodies and bodies are more than their shapes.

Swallowing the negative words rising up my throat; I am writing my days with smiles and laughter.

I don’t believe in love at first sight; only now I realize that you did.

You keep asking if I want more – Yet how could I ever say yes?

Sun rising slowly, frost hanging in the plush air; The skies are ablaze.

Be the root of my passion; young love, just you and me.

And I’ll never try to figure you out; You aren’t a puzzle to be solved and set aside.

And if you only opened the window you’d see the morning light seep through.

Today I woke up in fear. Tomorrow I wake up in pain. Still, in a year I will wake up in vain.

Grace juice dripping from your chin you lick your lips basking in the tremors of my shoulders.

It’s as if the words were leaking from my veins, intravenous poison channeled to my heart.

Let the season’s aroma soak into your bones as gingerbread men come to life.

You are so lovable but so hard to love.

She greets death with a curtsy.

Cracks in the glass words we couldn’t invite in yet had to break senseless.

I lay awake thinking about how none of it had to happen for me to get to this point; and how I’m glad I got there, anyway.