The eye of a hurricane

A quiet man with loud thoughts

Who may unleash his terrible storm

If you so deserve it

|

The patience of God himself

To watch others bloom

Sitting on a park bench

Waiting, Waiting.

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How knowing you must be

To see how impacted I am

By past wounds

Before I can uncover blood

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There is something so healing

About being held by someone who

Understand mindsets 

He has never occupied himself

|

You're a starving soul, someone who

Needs to experience so many things

Needs to have more time 

To view every aspect and learn

|

Leaning against a motorcycle

Clouds cover the stars from sight

Empty tears, a longing, deep acceptance

Of losing someone you've never met

|

Your paintbrush will only pause

After your mind has gone quiet

and your eyes are unable to stay open

Just as morning light is beginning to bloom

|

You crumple in onto yourself

Desperate hands holding an aching heart

Who mourns for the emptiness grabbing hold of you

That can never seem to be gone long enough

|

Beautiful wording painting photographs

Into the minds of people who listen

And truly are grateful to say

"I hear you"

|

An unwavering moral code of conduct

How you present yourself, how 

You interact with the people

And the Earth around you

|

You are a handsome mystery

Of a code I will never be able to crack

Of a person I will never be able to stereotype

The most complicated man I have ever 

Had the pleasure of loving

|

I want to pick you apart until you're 

Spread over a table, all of your

Broken heart shatters, all of your

Starving crooks you won't look at

|

All of the callouses on your hands

All of the individual destinations

Only you can visit when the moon is high

And you dream of escaping to somewhere better

|

I would hold your pieces so delicately

And I would break with you

Rose colored boy, so impossibly beautiful

An overwhelming closeness