Letter Undelivered

It wouldn't be fair to you to tell you how happy you make me.
Or to say that I'd be prepared to give all of my time, life, and energy.

It wouldn't be fair, but I"m caught in this snare
of golden threads, perfumed, like your hair.
It wouldn't be nice to tell you your eyes,
deeper than oceans, blue as the skies
give me the hope that one day I might rise
to be more than I am today. Now wouldn't that be nice?

Somewhere inside the condemned structure of my heart
there's a dying fire that hears your laughter and comes back to a start.
What comes to me naturally is forbidden, that's plain to see.
To kiss your cheek bringing you back from your sleep,
see your eyes open for the first time that day.
Would you smile at that moment? Would you push me away?

I re-teach myself everyday to live in a world where you aren't so near.
I know that one day you'll no longer be here.
So my heart has to learn to be used to the thought
that some things can be and others can not.
And my soul breaks a little more each day
and heals itself again like a phoenix. Some say
that the thing to do is confess these things to you.
It might not be fair, though. What would you do?

I don't want to keep closing myself from you in order to keep my sanity.
When I ask to be remembered, I know its vanity of vanities,
but I promised you once I'd never ask for anything more.
People take so much from you, so how could I, when I adore
everything about you, even the things that you don't like?
Everything you are gives me withdrawals from the mic.
I need to express the way your smile soothes my stress,
how our talks are intimate and passionate like our souls playing chess,
and top of that...
the way you look in that dress. :)

Cigarettes, coffee, bourbon, and weed
all help me cope, but they're not what I need.
Peace in myself is what I strive to desire,
but it's hard to want stillness when you set me on fire.
My heart leaps, I perspire. The not-so-secret admirer
keeps coming back to this obsession,
chaotic and beautiful like bebop jazz sessions.

Did I mention you make me want to give you my life?
I'm not throwin' around words like husband and wife.
That's another chapter, another  book, a different world altogether.
I just know my unflinching loyalty and what's left of my heart
would be yours if we'd ever get a chance to be together.

Made of Cardboard

 ive seen work done with cardboard stencils, which when acted upon by aerosol spray (commonly used for graffitti art) is transformed into nearly anything the artists want it to be. It is an ordinary, unvaluable object, turned into something beautiful and with purpose by someone with vision and heart. we should all be so lucky as to be cardboard.