Speak your mind

I would say “mi casa es su casa”, but I don’t want anyone else calling his arms "home"

When I can't sleep at 3 am I try to piece together my 17 year old wisdom. Insight acquired over more than 204 months of experience with love (lost), expectation, and reality. I struggle through the night realizing that I am not afraid of heights, I'm afraid of falling. Then I begin to hope that maybe time will convince me that the landing will be soft. Or maybe I just need a good night's sleep.

She is the definition of art With her coke bottle glasses, her hair wound into a librarian's bun, and her cardigan sweater to keep out the cold in her small apartment, She sips tea in between long drags of her cigarette and I know Van Gogh and Michelangelo wish that they themselves could have painted  her beauty.

You carry the ball and chain around my ankle. As I swim up from the abyss, you hold my anchor, allowing me some breathing room. Then, when I'm truly gasping for my last breath, you drop the chains. Down I sink

Oh, what a tangled web I’ve woven.  Delicately, I’ve sewn my web within yours.  At every turn, we cross paths.  Desperately,  I wait for you to fall into my trap the way I have fallen in yours.

There is such beauty in the way a person  you love speaks about something they love. The way their passion  ignites a fire in them,  and it could not matter less what they are talking about, just that they are talking about it with you.

You think I'm shallow, but that's because you were too afraid to wade deeper into my waters

Everyone floods me with questions I'm expected to know the answers. Youth is the time to leave questions  unanswered, before you're drowned by the real responsibilities, the troubles of life. So answer me this: Why won't they allow me the freedom of uncertainty?