Contentment

Miles separate us.
Worlds apart.
No need to fuss.
You have my heart.

Overjoyed, happy.
No need to be sappy.
With you, perfection.
Overloaded affection.
No fences to mend,
I’m content until the end.

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Speechless

There goes that feeling again.
The little knots in your tummy.
And the speechless bubble in your throat.

That’s how it all begins.
When I lose control of myself, and start acting like an idiot, bumbling.
I’m humming a different tune. A perfect note.

You do that thing that makes me giggle.
That look in your eye makes my heart leap.
The way you tickle,
But I shall not make a peep.

You make me dance without a care,
And I trust you. What a pair.

You make me free and act as one.
Forget where the past is really from,
Because the best,
Is really speechless.

Stolen

He fell into something like you.
Powerful. Captive.
Appearences deceived. 
He peered at you with envy. Rich. Boundless.
A shape shifter of the earth and a life provider.
His eyes were captived by your glory.
You touched him in so many ways. Both in and out.
You engulfed his love. Every inch.
You swallowed and smothered his kindness.
You showed him your true colors.
Powerful. Mighty. Unforgiving.
You showed him bounds of the possible.
You touched him in ways no one else ever could.
You moved over his body. Lusting his warmth away.
You stole his beauty. His soul.
A soul so joyous and forgiving that even in death,
He shines brighter than you ever will.
You may be here forever,
But he took a little piece of my heart with him.
And that is something I hope you never have the privilege of knowing. 
ALR.

Captivated Bliss

And there I was, being me.
Getting lost in space.
Thinking.
Order.
Structure.
Control.
Walls.
Steel.

And there you were, stupid happy.
Uncontrollable facial expressions.
Eyes wondering.
Lost in the moment.

And there I was, panicking.
Nervous as could be.
Heart fluttering.
Losing control.
Feeling my face contort just like yours.
Looking away.

And there  you were.
Eyes still trained.
Never faltering.
Etching the moment into your memory.
Movement.
Walking.
Closer and closer.
My eyes wandering.
Avoiding losing control.

And here I am, melting.
Giving into chaos over order.
Heart over mind.
Falling to the mystic.
You brush me.
My cheeks burn.
My hands tremble.
Uncontrollable smile.
Involuntary starring.

And here we are,
if only for a second,
lost in captivated bliss.

Anger, Courage, Hope.

I am angry at you for your lack of motivation.
I am angry at you because you know you have a good thing.
I am angry for you not treating me with some compassion and gentleness.
I am angry at your jealousy.

I have courage that we both know this is different.
I have courage because I’m a giver and I believe in you.
I have courage that I can dance through your mind and your heart.
I have courage because you look at me like you look at no one else.

I have hope because I see and feel your walls falling.
I have hope because you know I won’t wait forever.
I have hope because when I’m dancing in the moonlight, you join me.
I have hope because you know the dive is worth the jump into bliss.

Counting Crows

Trash my boring life.
Rip up my stained Levi’s.
Throw away my Van Halen shirt.
Trash my dirt covered boots.
Toss aside my peace and love.
Disregard my independence.
Aggressive no more.

Dress me up all black and white.
Give me those Sperry’s and Argyles.
The perfect hair and face, boobs and zero waste line.
Paint me into your white picket fence world.
Right there with my perfectly manicured lawn.
Big white house. Black lab. 2.5 kids. One boy. One girl.
Give me that Volvo. School patch.
Perfect all American family.

Complete with a husband who is never home.
Disconnected from his family. A mortgage he can’t carry.
Hey every congressman needs a scandal.
A wife with a “friend”. A pain pill addiction. Spending. Hiring.
Discontent with her own life. Smiling. Screaming inside.
The kids. Perfect little angels.
Little devils with coke habits. Ripped shirts.
Living. Escaping.
The damn dog is the only one who’s got it right.

I’ll take my Dali over Mr. Jones.
Give me Morrison and Manson.
Allow me to live like Love.
Free of Mr. Microsoft.
Just Counting Crows.

Exposure

The warmth of the sun fading.
The wind blowing distantly.
The coolness of a summer evening after rain tickling my skin. The fall sound of birds chirping, leaves rustling.
All dying away with the silence of the night approaching.
All things are obsolete to the deafening silence approaching. All but the music of a hallow man
The sweetness of a southern strumming guitar.
The noise from a box makes the sun a little warmer.
And the night a little more bearable.
Anything to avoid the emptiness.
Just letting the plucking of strings wisk my soul away.
My shell.
Still feeling the coldness approaching.
Well aware of the silence, the darkness.
The never ending fears of thinking.
But my soul, my soul.
She flies away to solitude.
Peace, love, joy, silence–comfortable in her skin.
Not reaching but accepting the impossible.
Peace with oneself at last.