If I were a flower I’d be a rose.
So ready for themes of love it sheds it weight in time.
“She loves me, she loves me not.”
Petal by petal I give away until I’m simply thorns.
First love. So sweet it hurts like a cavity of the soul.
Her smile so bewitching I gave it all to the unknown.
The feeling of driving to paradise on earth.
Beauty empowering me closer to the illuminating picture on the post card.
Vacationing in her warmth.
One by one, cloud by cloud the blue skies slowly wilted a gray.
I sway, hand in hand, in melancholic bliss waiting for a rainbow to split the clouds looming over.
No cover, adoration of the ever consuming rain gives hopeless fodder.
Consumed in gluttony of thine own sabotage.
Meddling; criminally in the poetic justice of one single word.
Love.
If only I told her that.
She was my Mona Lisa.
Da Vinci knew that beauty was not his possession, but the world’s to see.
Subject to a story of myth.
Lifted higher than icarus so I may learn how to fall; down.
Deeper, fallen into an abyss by the shot of cupids arrow.
Greeted by only a sign at the entrance reading “lost and found.”
A place in time existing only for lovers whose hearts wander off to the slaughter.
The unexplainable phenomena.
Wandering hopelessly until an improbable yet possible collision sets us back on course.
My lovely Andromeda to be.
A gift of fire I wish to collide with once more.

My heart feels the cusp of what simply was
Simple – that’s what it was.
The days were gone like the wind as soon as my body counted to 12.
Those memories of being young are so deeply sewn into my back pocket.
A little boy who saw the world for what it was.
A vast ocean of dreams.
Inheriting wide, wild eyes; a simple yet regal gift for the tactful of heart.
My kaleidoscope of essence shows a bright path of shapes full of color and endless possibilities.
Dancing to Music and living like Movies.
Creating scripts and sub plots to fight the urge to be mundane.
Imagination can be a seamless experience.
A tool given to those who really need it.
To think my biggest feat is by design a child’s invention- my inner child’s invention.
A world brought together through an adolescent’s view of a lifeless world.
Who am I if not the director of my own life?
My inner child creates the stroll to the coffee shop into a whimsical paradigm that enchants your every step as you progress closer to buying your gift wrapped coffee with cream and two sugars.
It’s a difference of mind over matter.
Life is worth living when your inner child makes beauty of madness.
To my younger self it was never about getting over the shadows of the world but rather learning to live with those shadows and see light intertwined in the chaos.
The idiosyncratic nature of the world.