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I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.

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Too many times I have given this heart away, I am afraid it is no longer mine.
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The tide has pulled the storm from my soul again. But in all that is right or wrong and pure, there is you, and your stunning ability to blur the lines and just be.
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Be bold, child. You are rare and you are brazen light.
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The deepest pain I ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable.
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I think I saw you again in the moonlight tonight, and I swear I could taste the hints of it alll.
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And that is the nature of us poets and whores, to make things hard: dicks, choices, life.
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On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.
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She tasted like wildflowers; crushed, wet wild flowers carried in sticky palms through farmers’ fields, just before dawn.
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I still pick at these memories of you; I pick them until they bleed.
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He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.
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If I had known our last kiss was to be our last kiss, I would have kissed you as if it was our first.
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I could lose myself in you or die blissfully, trying.
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And now I wander. Forever searching for the pieces of me I should have never given away.
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Moon child with your galaxy heart, cool your heels and stay awhile.
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We were electric together, you and me; we turned hurting each other into a goddamned symphony.
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