Love? Maybe I'm still young, Maybe I'm still dumb. I don't know if I really do know what love is. My definition may be wrong, But it is what love is to me. My definition you ask? To put a smile on your face, To make you happy, To be able to just see your face and tell you that you are beautiful, To be able to just laugh with you, To hold you, To be with you, To be the one to stop your tears, To be the one who hold you as...

I was a nothingFor you,Perhaps a stone.Slate for you to tread uponThrough your journey to places unknown.Your feet scuffed at my surface,And your weight pushed me further into mudIn the rolling river you were crossingAs you arrogantly assumed my love....but I still gave it. I was a something A face not yet nearly worn, Now something you will easily discard As you enthusiastically move on. When you’ve taken all I've offere...

I am enthralled by little pins of cold that dissipate on my tongue. The crisp air tingles my nostrils as I gaze into the soft grey sky. The flakes are tiny. They float lazily down and sparkle for an instant before disappearing into the grass. The silence is palpable. "This is it," I think to myself. "This is the real snow I have been waiting for ever since that first wet, sticky mess in November." I want to laugh out loud...

Puzzle pieces scattered on the floor, A quarter past one,I need you now,Beautiful words,Quivering, shaking in release.Puzzle border complete,Middle pieces in piles and patterns,Pieces light, gray and black,Edges jagged, dark and distorted,Reading it all to make it fit.Staring at the puzzle almost in completion,No longer a desire to know the answers,Puzzle thrown to the floor,Images of you and who you really are.Acceptance...

As I lie awake in my lonely bed, Thoughts of you still fill my head, Wondering where you could have went, The pillowcase still has your delicate scent, Like the memories that linger on, Long after you have up and gone. _ As I wander through my lonely room, I still smell the scent of your perfume, The memories over take my mind, Of a girl so loving and kind, I think about the good times that we had, And wonder how it ever...

  She stands near the window, watching the snowstorm come in.   Clouds darken the sky, and snow lightning, a rare phenomenon, splinters the inky blackness.   Sleep has eluded her once again, and she is restless.   Snow covers the ground and frost creeps into the corners of the window pane.   She stirs the embers in the fireplace and lays an armful of logs on the grate.   In her sheer, white nightdress she looks like a gho...