I miss you back then.

I miss talking to you
Not texting
Not skyping
Not IMing
I miss talking like we used to
When we told each other everything
I miss that
I miss u
I miss u back then
When it was all so simple.

Blood Bank.

Blood, blood, blood. A needle and more blood. And you see the drip and the bag and the name tag that has your name. Its your blood. Filling up the life veins of someone else. And all the iron and the cells that you made, but you gave it away. And that life fills another life. Bruises mark the entry point, bruises that remind you, you’re alive and well. And all the pain that they have makes it worth it, and all the sickness that they have makes it well. And in the end you know you gave, ‘cause you’re alive and well. ‘Cause you’re alive. Blood, blood, blood. Blood the color of life, blood the color of love.

I love things.

I love my markers and my pencils, my fantasy books and my comic books, my notebooks, scrapbooks, journals, sketchbooks and my quotebooks. I love my guitar and my music, my silence and my sound, my inspiration and my writer's block. I love my chucks and my jeans, my messenger bag and my gray coat. I love my room and my bed, i love my movies, my videogames, my coffee in the morning and my iced tea in the afternoon. I love those glasses i can never buy and all the other books i wish i had. I love to travel and to be home, i love the beach, the surf, the waves, the foam, the sun and sea. I love. I love. I know how to love. But there is nothing I love more than you.

Whole Again.

Put your hand into the fire.
Dream of far away places.
Visit invisible places.
Laugh at the sky.

Tell me you'll be here in the end.
Tell me time will never catch us.
Tell me I'm enough just as you are.
Tell me hello never goodbye.

Drink the water.
Feel the thirst.
Drink again.
Tell me im whole again.

Brightest Star

You're emotion, you're feeling, you're song, you're day, you're night, you're light and rain. You're golden days and summer nights, you're skin, you're breath, you're fire and ice. You're friday afternoons and saturday mornings, you're a fairytale and you're the princess, the mermaid, the fairy, the fair maiden, the queen, the rose and the thorn. You're the stream of light that peeks through the blinds, you're the morning dew, you're the cloud that shadows the field, you're the rain that freezes my skin. You're the brightest sun, you're the northern lights, you're eclipse, you're comets and meteor showers. You're letters, you're words, you're lyrics and music, ink and paper. You're dreams, futures, plans and visions. You're the space inside me, you're my brightest star. I love you.

Write.

I have a need to write that goes beyond my somewhat rustic writing and literary abilities. I see stories unfolding in front of me, beside me while I sit in a coffee shop, the person next to me in the bus and my classmate looking out the window. These stories speak to the fibers inside my heart, to the paint splatters I call my imagination and make me promise the unfolding of their tales. Characters make appointments with my words in order to make sure their stories do not go untold, because above all else, their existence depends on my ability to find enough time in order for me to bring them into life. A skinny yet courageous librarian lost in the middle of a lost european town, a noble soldier lost in the northern borders of an until now unknown kigndom, a girl with long hair that moves every piece of my heart with her voice and those precious emerald eyes. I have made an oath to them, to myself, to my words, poor as they might be, but overall I am committed to tell of the redemptive tale that overshadows everything else, at the same that it permeates our very existence. His story, his dreams and adventures, his ever present watch over this broken, rebelious creation that He loves above everything else. This is me in a neverending quest to find these people wherever they could be, and follow them through their trials and brokeness. This is an oath taken to show others and introduce them to the many stories that revolve around me and that have honored me with making me their voice, their usher to your life and your imagination, their keeper and treasurer. Their author.

Lost in your heart.

Im lost in her heart, marooned in her rich grounds and colorful landscapes. I ventured once into the unknown that was her affection and found currents so strong that made me lose my way, made me forget my speech, my writting lost and my voice impaired. Her summer scent lured me in, her thick gold hair embraced me and now im here to stay. This is no mere shipwreck or lost expedition, this is shangri-la, this is el dorado and its mine to keep. So, to anyone who finds this, tell my friends and family im here to stay, that im more than fine, more alive than I'll ever be and more and more in love each day. Don't come looking for me, I'm already found.

All I know

Jon Mclaughlin-You're the one I Love

A new language

I can't find the words to make you understand what you're doing to me. I'm speechless, I went blank and I can't seem to remember how to write or speak again. It's as if you're teaching me a knew language one I never new of because only you spoke it and it makes me feel as if I discovered a new way to communicate I don't quite seem to figure out completely. A new language where holding your hand holds more words than Cervantes could ever think of, more images than Monet could ever think of painting, a new language where talking to you makes time stop in order to listen to you speak, where your eyes hold more beauty than all the landscapes a pilot has ever seen, where your hand in mine makes my heart race more than anything I've experienced before, where time is there for us, where the word "Rush" does not exist, a language created around you, for you but for me to figure out. And so I write, or try to, about you, about how You and I when the time was right got so far.

Deaf songs.

I wish I could print all my memories and keep them in a photo album, or better yet a scrapbook. If I could show you how I sometimes see the world and how I used to see it and how my thoughts sometimes write songs I can't sing and lyrics I don't understand, maybe if I could do this if I could show you who I really am and not the handicapped, speech impaired, blind, deaf person I sometimes appear to be. Maybe then you could see why I like you so much, if you could see the memories you create and the songs you make me sing and the poetry my heart sings in deaf, incoherent but oh so colorful words. Maybe then you and I. Maybe you. One day I will, I promise.

Garage Sale

My heart is having a garage sale. Old crushes' pictures, tarnished love letters, teenage poetry going for $10 a piece. Dead ends, what if's and painful memories are 2 for $5. After this,making space for us and our baggage and moving you in. I don't care if it's heavy, come, you can rest in here.

Fitzsimmons

This has been speaking to me for a while, this guy is insane wish someday I could write/sing/play like him. Hope you enjoy:

Grammar rupture and word erupted.

And i'd like you to see the wall we will sit in, and the smell of wet bricks after the afternoon shower. The picture we took in the polaroid I never had and the diary I've never written about you and the song I haven't written about us. The blanket your mom gave us because you were cold in your living room and the movies I promised to watch, and we did. How I've written and written and I just found out it was about you and the way you don't seem to fit any type of person I will ever meet. The way you speak for yourself and others and the warmth I feel when you do. And whatever you went off to study at college and you were incredibly good at, and the way your dad talks about you and the way you're his little girl. Remember when I first met you? you fell asleep in the bus, and you love my music, and yes it is OUR playlist. I hope you understand that each song is for you, they were just kind enough to write it for me. And the way I met all your friends, your real friends, and were you grew up and were you spent your summers, and were we spent ours, and were I moved one day, and were I saw you for the first time, when I saw you for the first time and I really saw you.

I found a key today.

I found it in your room. At first, i thought it was the key to your diary, but I realized that could only bring more mysteries to your already confusing ways. Then, I thought it was a key to your thoughts, but I realized that would only dull our much interesting conversations. Finally, I realized it was a key to and already open house. Beautifully lit, gorgeous arrangements and warm rooms. Amazing pictures hung in the walls, pictures of you, pictures of me, pictures of your family, pictures of a childhood, of a beautiful little girl. Then I found a door, a blank door, yet warm and welcoming. I realized the door spoke to me, your heart spoke to me, a welcoming sound it spoke. I stepped in and marveled in awe at the fullness of your heart, of your words, of your songs. But above all this, i was touched by the space set up for me. I sat down, content in you, in the space you gave me, the space of your heart you decided to give me.

I found a key today
I found your key today.

Or so it goes

Or so it goes
Of trains and crashes
And fires and ashes
Can't seem to find

A you I like
A morning light
That's quite sincere
With were we are

And you and I
And raining blight
And you and your smile
And me and my skies

Yet here we find
A living scene
Of two of a kind
Of two of a kin

And you and I
And raining blight
And you and you're sad
And me and I write

I wrote it out
I wrote you out

Keep trying

Once again. Short lived attempts at something better. Good luck and keep trying.

It makes sense.

So there i said it. It actually surprised me how easy you made it, no drama, no excuses, no last minute plans you forgot to take into consideration. You only said yes. I was nervous to point of stopping one block before i picked you up and saying to myself: "Calm down and breathe in deeply" And then it was as if nothing had happened, we exchanged chit and chats and this and that. And you told me of your brother's hair cut and your sister's dilemma's and you ordered a lettuce and you loved the movie, and you smiled. And it was all worth it right there and then. And I took you home and it was awkward with your parents, and I helped you dad hang a picture, and it was worth it. I'm excited/afraid/anxious/nervous/happy of where this is going. It could be nothing more than laughs and movies and small moments. It could be as big as an age of laughter and movies and big moments and songs and years of looking into each other's eyes. Either way, I'm glad that I said it and you replied. And now spring is here and summer is around the corner and we go on to live what we WANT to live for once. I said it and I'll keep saying it. No more keeping it in, no more mediocre existence, no more what if's, no more waiting for things to happen. Because I'm tired of not saying what im feeling and thinking. Because I was scared of No's. Because ironically, when I decided i wouldn't be scared anymore you said yes. And now it all makes sense, because you said yes and it all made sense. It makes sense.

I always

If

What if's paved
the bittersweetness
of our Polaroids
tucked away for friend reunions
and secret toughts
of other loves
that never
were.

Proper Credits

Oh btw last two pictures are to be credited to http://pretty-as-a-picture.deviantart.com/ who is awesome and inspires most of the time.