Bragg Adocio

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You know, I can't help but wonder sometimes...... how often, am I thought of?

Everyday?
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Clear

Life is like the sky in a sense. The only two constants being change..... And change. Cloudy days, stormy nights, blizzards, hurricane season. Take your pick.... These are mine. Clear skies only mean you've reached the eye of a storm, a glimmer of hope as it takes a breather and goes back in for another attack. 
Falling stars, blitzkrieg. The sky will be clear tonight, no more stars, I have them all right here in my hands. But then the sun will come out, tomorrow. My prediction; heat wave. You just can't win can you? Perfect weather? California? Oh yea, sure, the skies are clear but the ground has terets.
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Where sea meets sky

Why is it that the rain makes people want to cry? If I were the rain, could I connect two hearts, the way rain connects the earth and sky? Sometimes, I wish I were the rain, then, I could touch people and feel their feelings..... Connect with their hearts. Maybe then, just maybe, I could understand their pain, and find out why they cry.
I wish I had GOD's eyes. That way, I could see into your heart and know what you're really feeling. I wouldn't have to guess, wouldn't have to wonder, and I could touch your pain, maybe heal it. Give courage to your fear, make a connection for both our sakes.... GOD knows we need it.
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Bird Watching

Can't sleep, not a wink, gotta think. Think if us think of you think of this.
So I can't sleep. No, not a wink. Might miss the early bird. Can't dream, can't coast, don't need it, just need to think. Think of me, me and you, us and this..... This kiss.
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For just another moment
Last turn before goodnight
I thought I'd stretch it out a bit and parked there at the light
A line behind me honking, single fingers on there hands
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Another voice in the crowd. Just another whisper lost in a tower of babble, useless jibber-jabber blocking out the sun. Its blocking my vocal Cords and i have a sore throat. I think im losing my voice. I think im losing my mind. I think im losing sight of my mic and the will to speak. I think im losing a piece of myself, one with no say as to his fate. 
I think im losing my voice. I may be losing my train of thought. I may end up repeating myself because I want a certain event to repeat itself.
I may stop from time to time. I may take a moment of silence for a daydream that never came true. I just might lose you. I just might call ahead and give you a running start. I might try to yell for you to slow down. I may fail. I just might discover how fast you really are and wonder why my throat suddenly freezes up in awe.
I might lose my train of thought. I might try to recollect an old story I used to tell myself and end up forgetting what really happened. I just might forget you..... I may be speaking to a mirror. I may forget myself and remember why I called you in the first place. I may remember that I wouldn't be able to tell you anyways. I might not ever forget you. I might not be able to tell you that, in spite of losing myself, I'm still glad I found you.
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Bittersweet (but mostly bitter)

Is it bad if I say I hate my life? What am I supposed to think when everything I think of as a plus in my life right now is only temporary? People who are leaving, have left before, or probably will leave me in the end. Live together die alone, right?
Is it bad to say that, at times, I really wish I wasn't alive? Is it bad to say that I drive close to the divider and imagine swerving into oncoming traffic, or realizing my brakes don't work after coming onto the feeder road into a red light...... Is that bad?
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Cold

I woke up this morning wrapped snugly in two blankets with the heater blaring. 
'why do I feel so cold? '
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Love Poems

I love, love poems. I love love poems like I love breathing, exponentially. Increasing with every breath I take. I love writing love poems, but even more so, I love Reading them. I love Reading love poems that remind me of you; in style, in story, or just bc it's pretty. But even more so, I love Reading any love poem...... As long as it's written by you.
I love quotable lines itching to be famous. I love Reading stories and POVs from a bird's eye view. I love 'love, sweet love' and the fact that not having it makes me only want it more. 
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Maybe in another place...
Another time...
Another demension....
Maybe, when time itself stops dead in it's tracks, when it's sands take their last fall, and when the smell of a new day takes it's last breath....
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(a response to The Secret)


Calligraphy
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i want you to kiss me, like the antidote is hidden under my tongue.
like you're curious as to the flavor of my gum.
i want you to hold me, like you are afraid you might fall if you let go of me.
i want you to want me,
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Forced

I've taken a step, someone has pushed me.
I'm over the edge, but I don't fall. 
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Do you know who I be?

I have always showed you half of me, still now, when you ask for all  
of me, I only give you body, no soul, no substance, no life, just  
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Don't Admire Me

Admiration is the emotion farthest from comprehension,
So keep your awe tucked away deep. Waste your time somewhere else until you've learned to really look at Me.
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Empty

I'm writing with an empty pen.
I'm out of ideas,  I'm going out of my mind.
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Runnin

I always catch myself chasing things I can't catch. But wasn't it I who said such a thing held no substance? That only dogs chase such foolish things like birds while their still flying, that only apes jump into rivers because they thought they saw the moon? And yet I always seem to catch myself chasing my tail, barking at the sky or all wet behind the ears. Serves me right I guess, for failing to evolve, for failing to sprout wings and fly, or a longer tail or spine. It serves me right, for not standing upright and growing a brain so I can build a ship to the moon.
Sometimes it feels like I'm so far behind. Maybe if I read the rule book I'd know that you have to run in a race, you have to get up and sprint for dear life, those who developed short stamina or shorter legs will get cut out in the shortest amount of time: survival of the fittest.
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Melodies

Sometimes I wish there was a way to translate heartbeats into English, Spanish, words of any sort. I would learn any language just so I could say 'inser translation here' and not lose you, and have you completely understand. Just one word that shows, without a reasonable doubt, what I'm feeling, what is going through my head, what my heart is screaming in drumbeats.
I think composers had it right. Should I write a symphony? Could a classical opus vocalize more than these simple words can't muster? Could a cello hum confessions better than a vocal cord? Could a harp represent my heart, singing sweetly over heavenly White clouds of peaceful nervousness, and other outstandingly terrible oxymorons that seem to describe my mixed-up mashed-up, upside-down emotions caused by a single note on the keyboard of my imagination.
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