crystal blue eyes like the Peyto Lake, soaking up the sunshine and making me shake
voice that hooks you like a siren call, one little song and then you fall
lips speak words soft and sweet, charmingly sweeping me off my feet
everything about you's like an addicting drug- your smile, your laugh, your kisses, your hugs. 

driving around town or staying at home, when I'm with you I feel less alone
the confident aura you portray helps keep the negative thoughts away
I never second guess my thoughts, never feel bad about my fears
minutes with you feel like seconds, days without you feel like years.

touching you is electrifying, sending shocks up my spine,
and wherever you walk you radiate happiness and good times.
talking to you is exhilarating, guys like you are hard to find,
and honestly, I'd be crazy not to call you mine.

Angel

My mother is my Angel
Of that I know for sure.

Through her seldom smiles 
That last for miles
to the tears she never cries.

My mother is my Angel 
And I am by her side

From "Wake up" in the morning
To "I love you" late at night
I've found my secret Haven 
in Angel's words just like starlight

Angel always seems to listen
Even when I think she's not

I've learned to be forgiving
I've learned to follow dreams
I've learned so much from Angel
I've never fully seen

I have always admired

My angel for her strength
 But mostly for her loving words 
that get me through the day.

My Mother 
My Angel dear
Don't you ever leave me
My own life to steer

before and after

then.

i was the one in the crowd who always stuck out. i was the brightest star, glistening and shining, soaking up the attention from the people below me. i was an 11:11 wish come true, a four leaf clover, a time capsule from your childhood. i was fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies from your mother's kitchen. i was lazy Sunday mornings, and sweet nothings whispered into ears by lovers in hushed corners of the room. i was the little things that meant everything but seemed like nothing at all.

now.

i am an eclipse. the shadow of the one that got away. i am the love song you play over and over at 2 am, wondering where it all went wrong. i exist only in "remember when"s and "used to be"s. i am memories recalled in drunken states of mind, and late night poems by underrated authors. i am broken promises, and forgotten prom dates. i am everything wanted to be lost, and nothing that will ever be found.

At Your Disposal

I've never had confidence issues. I've never had any reason to doubt myself, or a reason to make me think I’m anything less than beautiful.

But then you came along. 

You made me believe I was something special, and for those few weeks I truly felt like it. And when you left, you didn't just take our memories and our story that was only in the prologue.  You took along my confidence, my self-assurance, and any hope I had that love could ever exist between two people.

I was a tall standing redwood and you chopped me down, cutting my branches of life into little pieces that you used to kindle the next fire you start in another girl’s heart.  My love was at your disposal, and you washed me down the drain to flow among the tears that ran down my face. 

Every word that you say is another bitter reminder that I am no longer your She, and you are no longer my He. I wanted so badly to go back and figure out what I did wrong, so maybe I could fix the broken shell of my heart. I had built up a wall so sturdy, so strong, and you had bulldozed right through it with your smile. 

One day, I may forgive you for the pain you have caused me. But I will never forget. 

Descending beauty

A dark staircase, only leading down. 

Despite my mind telling me no, my brain says yes. 

So I descend, into the deep cold dark. 

I'm so far down now, I can't see anything. 

The light from which I came, vanished. 

The only way forward, is to continue down. 

Only darkness laying ahead, alone in the dark. 

My mind keeps playing tricks on me, making every step as terrifying as the last. 

But my heart keeps pushing onward, leading me into the unknown. 

Sometimes I stumble, but my heart helps me right back up. 

Suddenly a light appears, from out of the deep dark. 

After spending so much time in the dark, the light is blinding. 

But despite my mind's warnings, my heart tells me to keep looking. 

Looking at you, my light. 

The prettiest thing I've ever seen, the only way for me to get back up.

People ask why I write. 
They ask how I do it, and what it means to me. 
My answer is always simple. Easy.
"I write because I love it." 

Watching words come together and form a sentence is beautiful. 
Seeing those symbols meet in a meaningful harmony, telling a story enriched with emotion. 
The words tumbling over each other like roaring waves,
then laying out smoothly onto the beach of recycled bamboo paper.

Writing is going to other places when your current location isn't pleasant.
It's standing under an umbrella in the pouring rain.
It's your first kiss, your last kiss, and all the kisses in between. 
It is love, and it is loss.

But most importantly, writing is my passion. 
It's a never-ending fire in my heart and sole that can only be kindled by a pencil and a piece of paper.
It's my way of letting out my frustration.
It's my way of telling my secrets to someone who will never tell.


So the next time someone asks me why I write, my answer will not change. 
"I write, because I love it."

His passion flaring like a comet, setting ablaze to his eyes.
Each word he speaks full of life.
His every thought sparks interest in my heart.
His every theory immerses my head with speculation.

I love the way he gets excited over the tiniest details.
I love the way he views life in his own way.
I love the way he doesn't quite fit in with the crowd,
yet he sticks out in the most sensational way.

A mind so complex, so interesting, so stupendous.
A mind far too wonderful to depict in any form of writing or art.
Yet this mind, though it understands so much,
cannot seem to comprehend how beautiful it truly is.

Yes, this mind might quite possibly be mad-
crazily, extraordinarily insane.
But it has been said that the ones who are considered crazy,
are the best kind of people to be with.

"It's like a light bulb in a dark room.
Once the light goes out, darkness takes over.
For light needs a source of power, 
but darkness does not."

But there is one light that doesn't seem to need anything,
and it lights the way for others constantly, all day and all night.
It provides heat, warmth, security and hope, helping people get through each day.
It represents a reminder that no matter how hard today is, 
you'll always have tomorrow to fix it.

Well my darling, I have some news for you.
No matter how hard my day is, how sad or mad I get,
I will always have you to look forward to,
for you are my sunshine.