For, Thirteen.


i hunger and burn with the fire of an artist's intensity,

my eye is keen to the kindred themes that invoke me.

With me it's all thought, all feeling, all or nothing.

I struggle between Intense extremes,  

controlled by Fear, my only, hold me back suppressor.

the involvement of me and myself,

purging you, oh how impossible, to feel free

from bursting reality completely, just thinking softly of enlivened memories.

Your, Dry lips, short temper, your unwillingness to partake, without effort,

as if nothing really mattered, and So clever,

that you make it look easy, to seduce me with candy.

And im never the only one, just only, the hopeless one,

with my strange ideals about the way it should be, but i am hardly controlling.

I feel sometimes, as if i am Loves drive without direction,

lost yet found wherever i am exactly, I stand for possibilities so infinite

i dream about skies the limit,

being an untapped resource of energy.

I speak crazy,

Matched in vivid out of character influences

painted by the imaginative graces of your inspiration,

taken by the will, of my need to fulfill a greater sense of me

I dream to dream


and the pedestal remains vacant in the solitude of my soul,


as a poet

i'm more in love with ideas on the surface,

but underneath my person, i can hardly wait

for what you make me want, without purpose

the only promise that i offer is the knowledge that

i'll smear

the fashionably cliche outline of color

you use to define the curve that is your lips,

with my over zealous kiss.

to pursue, there isnt any length i wouldn't go to

to reach you.

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