Thank you, my love.

Endless words have been written on this…what we call love.

Many lives lost and reborn in the search for what I know to be true with you.

Great pains have been suffered before here so that where I stand now has indeed been fought for; and earned; and truthful.

I cannot help but bask in the notion that what we hold between us is the Genesis self-discovery, though I know others share my sentiment.

For when I stand within your reach, I feel such an overwhelming sense of true worth and honesty, which I know cannot be fake; cannot be mass produced; cannot be rehearsed.

You are every bit as naive as I and every bit as intolerable as I, for which I can both apologize for and forgive.

For we are merely souls, drowning in a sea of self-doubt, only to be saved by a hand to pull us through and pick us up and cleanse our damped hearts with the warm and glorious sun.

Recoiling into a state of self harming thoughts may have been part of our own arsenal of slings and arrows, but outrageous fortune has found a way to bring together two volatile souls…yours being mine to treasure.

Your hand in mine is washing away my fear, and my past transgressions are finally being laid to rest because for the first time in these weary days have I truly come to understand the meaning of real, honest love.

So often must we make our past our ever-present examples as to why. Why anything. Because everything. We see ourselves as we have lived, not as our potential to live greatly.

I have changed for me. I have changed because of you. I will thrive for us.

Thank you, my love.

I & Me

Fingers rest upon crystalline glass and in their image is reflected an
equal counterpart. Only heat, radiating from a single point, separates
the two planes of creation. On one side, I. On the other, me.

I am the knower and the creator of my ever changing thoughts. A
single breath is the orchestration of I, myself, and the act to move
forward, push, bend, laugh, rethink is all the doing of I.
Me is the devil who spins conditions for the I. I am not anything without
me, and me means nothing without I. Me opens a page of the past and
tells I what can and cannot be though, based on what is written down
on that unholy page of mine own history.

Who do we see when we look in the mirror? Me or I? Two planes of
existence, separated in equal duality by the body of self and the
promise that both will be recognized for its admirable service to the
mind, the soul, the body.

For we are simply skins which rest upon the hum of our own spirit and
ambitious mind. I and me inhabit the same tangible being without
making way for the other. Simple gestures of propriety and grace are
not considered when fighting for center stage of the mind. Will I or me
be the forefront on my mind this day?

“as (long as) you will have me” my personal adaptation

When I was around 16 years old, I was asked to transform my most treasured poem and fashion it into our my words and meaning. I took on “i carry your heart…” by ee. cummings and below is my adaptation, written 5 years ago:

my love is yours (as long as you will have me)forever is never long enough (to have my heart with

you always)for whatever distance away from my heart you travel,

my love, my love will carry along side you

no hesitance(for my love, my true, you are my heartbeat)

no despair(for love, your heart knows only bliss) for everything I ever was and everything

i ever will be(for never ceasing to keep constantly) surrounded by your embrace and my heart

knows no greater happiness and roses bloom with bold persistance even in winter) and i revel in the notion that your love is mine(’till stars cast shadows on my forever resting face)

my love is forever yours(as long as you will have me)

“anyone lived in a pretty how town”

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

ee cummings