House Of Papers

Scrambling

Clawing towards

I can hope and pray

That you will be the one,

To beg me to stay.

That our love will be merry and gay

Dispelling everything terrible

That makes this world oh-so grey.

I beg you so,

Every part of you feels so

Right, evert drop of your essence.

It’s like I can feel your soul

Flowing through me.

Coarsing through my veins and

Rippling through every fiber

You’re the sort of person

That you set two alarms

For in the morning, because its

Too hard to leave your side.

Have the sort of lips; when

We kiss and our lips stick together

I take it as a sign to

Kiss you again.

Simply.

You are the sort of person I

Know I’ll fall for over and

Over again.

Each time a little bit

Would you look at that,

The earth is crying tears of

if i wrote You a love poem

would you know it was for You?

could You see how all these lines

are actually just thoughts of You?

would You now see, how all my words

and lines wrap around You and

who You are so perfectly?

or, would it just be tossed away

with all the rest

But if I had told you first,

Would we have been there?

The stars, glowing through the

Winter trees, brighter than ever

Reflecting off your indescribably

Goddess-like blue eyes.

Would the distance of the traffic

In the background have been enough,

To not make the moment

Too terribly silent?

I think that moment landed upon us

In the most perfect of ways, my heart

Still flutters with joy

I am far too close

Almost Speaking these words, Breath-

I am in love with the way

Your eyes are your pure emotions,

Burning hot, then glacially cold.

I am in love with the way

Your smile breaks my heart.

Everything you do has the delicate desperation

Of someone in pain.

I wish I could bandage you,

Wish I could kiss away your pain.

Instead I drink,

Punish my liver

For the sins of my heart.

It’s magnetics,

The simple physics of attraction and repulsion.

I misheard you,

Those sweet words.

Misheard for a second.

In that moment

My heart jumped to my throat

I thought I’d choke.

But thinking I heard you right,

Baby,

We have been running back an forth,

Tipping over our self-worth;

Missing each other,

Time and time

Maybe someday you will know,

How many notebooks carry your name

Scattered, tattered and lost.

How many lines I have written

For you, about you and inspired

By you.

Maybe, someday when the world

Wishes it so,

I’ll show you, my House Of Papers,