Writings:
A Small Pearl
"The Game"
Poems/Songs
Year One
Year Two
Year Three
Year Four

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Silent Muse
Music Discussion Forum
Friends and Inspirations
Words Never Die
Quick Pretention

Because you're not here. . .

Because you're not here. . .

I don't think you understand. . .

I love you.

I could be something to you. Not just something, but someone. Not to brag, but I think I've started to get a good handle on this whole love thing. I'd show you passion of the purest form, for when I love, I love completely. I would always be there when you called, as well as surprising you from time to time, but you would not rule me. I have a life outside of you, and it will stay that way. You'll get your space and not have to worry about my every little problem, but you're of course welcome to dig as deep into me as you can stand. I'll never ask for anything I wouldn't do myself, and never take what I wouldn't give. . .

No doubt we'd fight. I'm not expecting perfection from you. There are going to be things with which I disagree, and vice versa, but I love you because you are not me. I don't think I can change you, nor would I really want to, but I do believe we can help each other grow. We'll be stronger together, maybe even completing each other. Regardless, I know my life just feels better with you around, and though I could live without you, why would I want to?

I love you.

You flutter back and forth, existing only in daydreams and possibilities. You sometimes wear the faces of those around me, but I don't think we've formally met. Yet I already know I love you, because this heart was put here for someone. And I know you're searching for me too, looking behind faces and not finding me. Keep trying on shoes, my darling Cinderella, and one day we may wear each other. . .

For now, I wait. I'm afraid that if I jump out in one direction, you'll be going in another. Yet, if we both decide to stand still, can the tides of time push us towards each other? I have to accept the fact that I may never hold you.

Logic won't let me hold to that thought for too long, though Logic and Love dine at seperate tables. Still, for all I know, there may be more than one of you.

Or you may not exist at all. . .

I'll still love you, until the stars bleed out the sky. . .