War is every day.
A constant fight of reminders
of the potential that we hover on.
But there are every day victories.
Victories that help us remember,
as we can never forget,
why it is we push forward.
I fight for my bright eyes.
I see glimpses of light
when I sit and imagine
what lies ahead of us.
Like my mind is blinking
with memories that
haven’t occurred.
Fortune has been good to me,
like a never-ending gift.
This is the most dangerous type.
So, I will never forget the lows,
as I continue to stop myself
from getting up on all the highs.
My bright-eyed baby,
always know that I see you
and hear you.
Always know I will be next to you,
looking at you and smiling.
My bright-eyed girl,
please know how much brighter my sky has been since the days of Bayes.
My stars illuminate with the reason I was brought to you.
My bright-eyed sweetie,
don’t you forget the beauty you possess,
the things that make you kick,
and the world that surrounds you.
My bright-eyed beauty,
never lose track of your potential,
like a time bomb ticking,
like an airplane during take off,
ready to take over.
When I look into you, my bright-eyed baby,
I see all that I need to see.
What holds outside of my rainy window,
dark from the night,
cloudy from the water,
bored from the time.
Not used to having my decisions
placed in other people’s hands,
especially when their intentions
are as foggy as the mountain top.
I see the fog-filled nights
in our own place,
spoiled with laughter
and the love we make.
There is little I know more than,
little that I’m more certain about,
than us.
Everything will fall into place
as we step farther into our world,
surrounded by illuminant smiles
and endless potential.
There is little I know more than,
little that I’m more certain about,
than us.
To think you’re there alone
while I am busy with nonsense,
makes me sick beyond belief,
two months of lack of freedom.
It’s unlikely I’ll ever come up
with the letters that connect to
the ever increasing pain I feel
when we are distant.
You are my rock, my baby,
my love, my heart. I miss you
every day, when we’re together,
when we’re apart, I miss you.
And it’s endless, I know,
because I feel it endlessly.
A unique idea because I had
not loved until I loved you.
We are patients of patience
and it is painful, it is.
And “I miss you”
lacks adhesive, I know.
Not in the most ideal of conditions,
we push through with angst to what lies ahead.
But sometimes we run into each other,
and I can be too big.
I’m looking for a way out
of all that I do,
because as busy as I get
you are all I see, think, hear.
I only ever see the chai tea lattes,
your embrace amid the sheets.
I only ever hear your laugh and love
amid our endless dance.
I am merely being caught
in frustration of missing you.
You are not simply along for the ride;
you equally hold the map of routes of which we follow.
An off night
leads to the lack
of ability
to turn it off.
A quick sensibility, however,
results in thoughts of future,
an East coast neighborhood,
houses disimilar, filled with fog.
And mist that drips
during a 6 a.m. wake up call,
as I drift back to the west side,
of ports and surfers.
I think forget my possibilities,
and all that stands before me,
to recall my peaceful thoughts,
and fall asleep tonight.
If I ever needed a prayer,
I need one now.
Or a flux capacitor,
a crystal ball.
I’m slowly growing tired
of this slowly moving time,
as I make slow-motion contact
into a wall.
Falling off the cliff
of my homestay timeline.
And when I think ahead
for just a few moments
I’m able to breathe
knowing my heart
is solidly protected,
silently reciprocated.
I miss the days I’d wake up
to those big eyes
prior to hours
laying around.
I miss the days we’d lay at night
while I sang to you words
full of truth, heart
and watched our show.
But then I think ahead
for just a few moments,
and I’m able to breathe
knowing my heart
is solidly protected,
silently reciprocated.