First, Not Last, Not Only

It smelt like honey,
Tasted like fresh air,
and looked like the brightest color you could see.

It hurt like all the pain I've ever felt.
It made me smile bigger than making my dad proud.
My chapped, dry lips cracks over my dehydrated mouth.
The tempo fueled my adrenaline and synced with my heart.

When I drove home after each show,
I cried.
I cried to support a feeling I quite didn't understand.
I had felt it once before, but not like this.
No, not quite like this at all.

I met G-d.
He was hiding in my music all along.

I knew this group of five would split.
I could preempt things were going to end.
Then, the tall one said,
"This will be our last song. Thanks for everything. It really, really means a lot to us."
Like that,
it was over.

Love 180 Minutes Away

This white.

This black.

Where do I find you?

How do I reach for you?

180 minutes.

And my heart beats a million times faster;

just for you.

Your touch isn't around.

I reach and digtially feel.

Oh phone, oh computer--

--I've had enough.

When will your titanium start to feel like skin?

When will your plastic begin to feel like love?

When will the screen start to revile the truth?

Love 180 away

It starts and ends my day. . .

Girl of Heads and Hair Colours

How could I forget her? She's me.