Dreamy eyes and destructive hands

Late but not too late.

Too drunk to care but not enough to forget. 

Liquid courage in my veins and you consuming my mind. A real natural disaster.  

Disaster it was, because you rest with ease and I haven't slept in days. 

Breath taking and soul crushing all at the same time. And if I had my way I wouldnt take it back, but I would still take back you. 

You penciled me in God knows how many rows down.
All while my innocent mind had prioritized you for years. 

even though I have grown older
and i'd like to think a small percentage wiser
It makes my stomach turn and mind race still. 

I lay here in guilt while you lie over there with a grin on your face and a story to tell . 

The L Word

Scared to drop it

Hear it.

Mean it.

So for now I will just whisper it. Not even aloud but within the pattern of my heart beats. Which is rather rapid when in the same room as you. Maybe I won't even notice the syllables of the 4 letter word escape from that cold lonely place. 

And you will never know. 

I believe the reason we love the cold side of the pillow is because of the hope that it won't always be cold. One day replaced by the weight of my sleepy head against your secure framed collarbones that contour my cheeks exactly. A fit so right it is as if they were created to cradle my face only.

and maybe that's Love.

He looks at her, after 52 years. Still In awe of the beauty and grace she holds, despite her thin gray hair and  streaky veined hands. 

He stands and proclaims that she is the best part about him. 

I still don't know how, who, or what love is exactly.

But 52 years has got to mean somethin. 

                          

Not for you, but about you.

On those cold bleachers I felt like a piece of me stayed. Stayed with you, there.

You told me about your lack of role models and I admired that you had come this far with out them. And it was then that I no longer saw you as a child with your immature jokes and mildy uncombed hair.

I watched your walls slowly come down, the same walls that you had spent years building up with the strongest materials you could get your hands on. Because heaven forbid someone sees your interior. 

But your interior is exactly what I grew to love. 

The do's and the don'ts, and the don'ts that you do. In the back of my mind I resisted the thought that maybe that you and i was a don't, A don't that you did. 

For the record, your were a do in my book. 

I assured you that I was not made up of as much good as you thought. You responded with your own black holes, and I was intrigued and ashamed all at the same time. 

Now it's September and the leaves are changing and preparing to fall. But unlike leaves I didn't get prepare myself to fall, I just did. 

Props to you john cougar mellencamp. You were right, Sometimes love don't feel like it should. 

I sit and wait and wish, wish for a fall I know possibly may never come. But they told us optimism is key, and I have the right to hold onto that. 

So fall baby.

12:41 part one

 It's 12:41 and I'm up writing about you. Because maybe if I jot it down you will get out of my head. Now 12:43.

You treked an hour to meet a somewhat stranger. You didn't know then and you might not know now but that was important.

I talked, you listened.

 You talked and I admired the way you smiled and the light in those pale crystal eyes. We spoke of everything and nothing at all. You asked questions simply to let me talk about myself , and maybe that's not important.

 but It made me feel important.

We sat close in that amusement ride much too small for our long complected bodies. Reeking of dirty metal and cotton candy...but I didn't care because there we were, Less strangers than before. 

 After spins on screams on spins I begged you to make it stop. Only to take it back after I heard the way you laughed at my fear. A good laugh. A laugh that made me laugh and forget about the churning of my stomache on top of the butterflies I had been containing since you opened my door into that shiny black car. 

And hours later we found ourselves at my door step. Having bonded over regrets, dreams, and lessons learned. I opened up in a way I had kept on the back burner of insecurities for quite some time. There in the dim spotlight of my front porch you leaned. You leaned and I waited for 90%

And at 12:41 I responded with 10%.