35

It's strange how we let ourselves be victimized by time. When we let it run us down and run us out, and it takes quarters before our hours and after our hours, taking our seconds from the spare change we just made.

We short ourselves and nickel and dime ourselves till the minutes can no longer can be divided; and we spend time playing catch up, paying back the sleep and the moments and the chances we let time take from us. 

We spread ourselves thin and time stretches us out, milking every bit of what we are worth. We revel in the moments that we survived time's tyranny, its bullying us into schedules and under tables and crunching into lockers; a battle with never ending wounds. 

34

They say that good writing sounds like a conversation, but everything I think goes through some filtration. I try to choose my words wisely, but right now it's a strange amorphous blob that has no shape or reason. Just some words that fall from my head to the keyboard. 

It's funny how I sat in my bed thinking about what to type, but I've got nothing now that I've made time to write.

So I say to you to practice your sentences and find your own rhymes. Stop reading and retweeting all those  "clever" quotes all the time. There's far too many words to say the same thing twice, so don't waste your time on repeated lines.

Keep practicing whatever it is you want to say, so when the time is right, it'll be your own words anyway.

33

Let's make magic in the mayhem.

As the crowd surges around us, our linked hands will be a spark. The crowd will see us and join hands as sparks scatter. We'll breathe in and exhale flame, and the heat from our voices and the burns from their choices will ignite the tension-charged air.

Those people will try to break us, and stun us and take us to our knees so that our steps become puddles. We cry; in fear, in anger, in anguish. We will not shrink, we will roar.  

We will roar so loudly that even as we fall to our knees and tears tear into the heat from our mouths, we will hiss. We will fight. We will not surrender.

Let's find magic in the mayhem and beauty in the blitz. We'll start a revolution and light the sparks within.

32

Hooked by your lines and sunken by your words. You bring me up and I pull you down as the tides turn. Across the uneven sea, it simply became you and me.

I took the bait, not knowing whether it was your heart or your head. You gave chase, so when lines crossed, we got tangled up instead.

Cut the cord, and let me go. To what depths we ventured, no one has to know. Catch me then, in knotted, netted hands, and hold me close, saying the unsaid.

Keep what you need and relinquish all else. At least that's what we're told to do. Furling and unfurling, I will lead you across the sea, and with jumbled, mumbled lines, you'll follow me into uncertainty. At least until you decide if you catch, or release.

31

It's funny how we fumble through words trying to tackle the way you, or I, may play. I know your game, so I saw you got on the defensive, or is it offensive? I charged forwards with my words gaining round and your mind racing as your eyes darted from my mouth to my eyes as you tried to anticipate what lies I could call, and what plays you could make. Intercept my words? Yeah right, get out. This isn't a game, no matter how much you try to shout. There are no fans here, no cheerleaders, or refs. We're both coach and team, and call all the plays, losing control over concealed rage . 

I couldn't tell with you, keeping close your play(books). We want to win, there's no losing or ties. A tie, is a loss, and I don't compromise. I'm all in or all out, and I know you are too. Or that's what you say, when I call your bullshit too.

30

Baby, don't make your wishes on dying stars. The last whispers on the trailing tears as it flies hopeless and dangerously, between heaven and earth. These are wishes that burn in glory or fade quietly against the other stars that hold steadily their places in the sky.

Let's make our wishes on different lights, like the sparks that illuminate your eyes. Let me plant hope in your heart(h) and kisses on your face. 

Then, when the stars sleep and begin to fade, let's grant our own wishes as our sun illuminates our sky.

29

Come and lay with me. Let me hold you closest to the parts of me most vulnerable. 

28

Break my heart to pieces, or take a piece of it. It'll hurt, no doubt, but how you do it won't matter much.

I don't want to keep it whole. If I keep it whole, what parts of me am I sharing with you? Am I even sharing with you? When you leave you'll take a piece of me too. How big or small the piece you take matters partially, mostly on you.  

Take a large piece, a trophy, maybe, if you will. You could take a small piece too, but that's more like a souvenir of me for you. You'll be taking something of me, and I might be something of you. Maybe we can trade which would be just as good.

I hope the part you leave me isn't small, or there will be some gaps I can't close. If it's too big, maybe I'll be scared it wasn't enough. Hopefully the piece you take from me is equal to the one I took of you.

I never thought hearts were meant to be kept whole. If we don't break them, we have less to share. I guess what I'm trying to say is that people always take a part of your heart, how much of it just depends.

27

Present tense. We love. Future tense. We will love. Past tense. They're strung with the force of expectation or the weight of disappointment; each ready to snap forward with progress or to fall heavily with our hopes.

The past is layered heavily. Perfect. We loved. Pluperfect. We had loved. Future perfect. We will have loved. Perfect was never meant for now, only in faraway dreams and long gone realities. 

There's a little if, if we had done this or that. If we met a condition or were finished and it's something past. We had loved, and now it's lost. We will have loved, if we had done it right.

Imperfect. We were loving. Incomplete, interrupted, infinite. Possibilities still exist for the unfinished and the unsure. Potential exists for better or for worse.

I'll laugh at those who want perfect love, because it's been completed, gone. I'll take the imperfect, the continuous quest towards perfect, which anyone wise knows is never done.

26

I've been away for a bit and I may be for a few days more. I've got a lot to think about and more words and worlds to explore. 

You'd be proud of me I think, but that doesn't matter. I'm not doing any of this for you. If the days turn into weeks, and you don't speak to me, I'll understand. I was never one for plans. 

I'm just running on the winds and riding on the waves. I've got places to love and people to see before I do anything. I'd take your hand and maybe your heart, if you wanted to come with me.

If not, that's fine, you'll stay grounded here. Rooted strongly, deeply, so I could maybe find you. If I don't, that's fine too. There wouldn't be much to say to you. This world would still be yours, and the world of dreams would still be mine; so long as the winds never die.

25

Don't fear the thunder off in the distance or the sounds in the night time grass. Forget the howling winds that race through the night and lap and tap the glass. 

Remember only the star kissed sky and the shy moon with unwavering eyes. Be brave, little one, there's nothing but magic when the dark draws near.

24

I'm sorry I've been too busy to write, or mostly to just write well. 

I've been out finding new reasons to love the world. The more reasons I find, the more I want to show you. That's all it is isn't it? I wouldn't call it falling in love, I'd prefer to call it discovering. The more wonder I find, the more I'd like to show you. Then again, I suppose it's like when I've watched you fall in love, the more you want to show everyone why.

The trick it to rediscover the reasons you love every time. 

23

We say goodbyes everyday and pay them no heed. We bid adieu to one time friends and those who cycle through. The seconds become allies or foes as we become conscious of our farewells. 

The seconds are comrades as we see the future together, and quickly change as we move towards the end. The more we spend with them, the more they take of us, if they take of us. 

22

Silence.

The heaviest, deadliest, fullest word.

21

He loved the world more than it could understand. He felt the potential in the soil when he kneaded it. He tasted the satisfaction after a day's hard work. He heard the unsung songs in the first notes of her voice and saw the beauty growing there. In the world he saw everything wonderful, possible, beautiful it could be and felt glad.

But he also saw how quickly and terribly we deterred ourselves from responding to the potential he felt. Our inability to grow and learn consistently and wholly deprived him of the sweet satisfaction he craved. He grew angry that the world chose the worst of itself instead of its very best. 

He loved the world so much, he refused to watch it go to waste. He sealed himself instead his castle, or tomb, depending on what we wanted to believe. 

20

The cold, crisp air stung more than the last words you said to me. I tried to choke it down but it came back up in a sob. It stung going down and coming up, like the needles when blood is drawn.

I needed you, like water through my core. I wanted you and I just desired to know if you wanted me too.

19

I watched boats sail on the tips of daylight dreams. They floated on the lavender seams of the sky and sea. Their paths may parallel walkers in the streets, or cross like hands held quietly. The sun stroked the periwinkle twinkles that rippled the sea. Both wakes and waves turned to blush like I did when you looked at me. 

Dreams may dart away at dawn, but dusk is where they start.

18

I'll share my queen sized bed with you. And we'll stay up and talk till two! I may fall asleep before you ever do, and I promise I'll try not to drool on you.

I'll bare everything to you, what's in and on my chest. We'll have no secrets between us so that we may lie closer still.

Hold me here so I can hear your heart beat. One for in and one for out. Breathe in breathe out, keep the count here with me.

Sweetheart, I know you'll lay with me but I know you'll never fall asleep.

Dear iPhone.

You can't hold me the way my lovers do. If I drool on you, that's a hundred or so dollars, maybe two. Applecare? Yes, so 50$ since I'm not a fool. Same price if it's tears not drool. I can't buy your love but I'm taking all of you.

Through you I bear my secrets and my dreams into the digital, virtual reality. let's snap and chat and I hope you'll like what you see. To your opposing, eyes I've shown everything.

Let me chirp and tweet my mind in 140 characters, anymore than that is for amateurs. Maybe we can tumblr through the sheets and giggle at your place or MySpace.

iPhone, you know where I am, a blue dot on the move. But if I turn off the services, I disappear from view. don't worry, I'm only right here.

Our phones become both sword and shield against anyone who dares reach us. I shouldn't hold you near, right here. They may not know I'm reaching out to them too.

17

The final breath before the note, before you choose to sing. The final breath before you belt or blare some melody. Will your voice tremble like your knees did that night? I hope they don't, I hope it soars, and rings out loud and clear.

I've heard your voice do that some time ago, and maybe it was a dare. I remember you called out to the stars, the midsummer air carrying your declarations further than the sea. I could only laugh at your antics until I was breathless, laugh-less, done. The skies twinkled in delight and once we were finished, we moved on, gone. No point in lingering on and on.

I hope you sing that note so well, so they'll hear you like I did. I hope that it hangs in the air and captures everyone; whole, soul, full. 

16

Do you remember when we squish-squashed our toes in the mud? When the dirt bubbled up as we laughed as much as we could run? How about when we played with the sprinklers to our mother's dismay, and grandma could only grin since we watered her greenery that day. The hose was our greatest ally and and we marked the walls with water. It was hard to say who was having more fun. We had the water up to our knees, and the flowers just giggled, tickled by the breeze. 

I remembered the blanket-capes and building block shields that we made one day. We ran around the garage times three, with the street lights up and the dark sky, rainy. Dad was working in his office then, so we had to save him for dinner in ten. Our neighbor saw the spectacle of you and me, and asked us bemused, "Is it Halloween?" It wasn't, we smiled, and continued our quest, since who knew what monsters lie ahead.

You told me you were a robot once, and I believed you completely. You told me you lived in the mountains by home, and if I left the room and closed my eyes, you'd be gone. I'd leave and come back and you'd still be there, and I believed when you said you teleported there. 

Some things never change. I still am gullible and believe everything and you still have some of the best stories. I may be a little disappointed you're not a robot; since I've always wanted to teleport. We've still got our monsters, and we've still got our dreams. We've armed our tongues with swords and bolstered our brains with shields. Either way, I know we'll be fine... Beaming triumphantly.