Chasers of the Light: Poems from the Typewriter Series

I love you, in ways you've never been loved, for reasons you've never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me.

Sometimes the only way to catch your breath is to lose it completely.

I do not know if I will ever be complete, but I know whatever I am, You will always be the rest of me.

Thank You" she whispered soft like it may blow away with anything stronger than a breathe, "for fixing me." "You," I sputtered out like the first sound of morning, "were never broken.

Sometimes you look up and there just seems to be so many more stars that ever before. More. They burn brighter and they shine longer and they never vanish into your periphery when you turn your head. It's as if they come out for us and to remind us that their light took so long to come to us, that if we never had the patience to wait, we never would have seen them here, tonight, like this. That as much as it hurts, sometimes it's all you can do, wait, endure and keep shining, knowing that eventually, your light will reach where it is supposed to reach and shine for who it is supposed to shine for. It is never easy, but it is always worth it.

What if it's the there and not the here that I long for? The wander and not the wait, the magic in the lost feet stumbling down the faraway street and the way the moon never hangs quite the same.

I will never, ever believe in the words "too late" because it is never too late to be exactly who you wish, do exactly what you should, say exactly what needs to be heard, and live the exact life you should be living.

You are the poem I never knew how to write and this life is the story I have always wanted to tell.

We are the only people I have ever known that can make love from across a crowded room.

When we are we and a closet we share, I will hang my clothes in the opposite direction as yours, because after a wait like this, I think even they deserve to always be walking directly towards each other.

I am so tired of waking to the blank canvass of morning and realizing it won't be painted with you.

We are the memory keepers and the trappers of time; stealers of stolen glances and breathless lungs from all that have been taken away. We are the noticers of subtle signs hidden in plain sight by a benevolent universe bigger than we'd ever believe...We are the directionless wanderers and the destinationless travelers and we are the crumpled map that never got packed to join us. We are the cinematic lovers and the translucent curtains saturated in light. The soundtrack to the moments without sounds and the swiftness that two bodies can become one in the stillness of a second. We, says the last string pulled out, the final string that kept it all together, balled up tight, filling us after all this time, We, are the chasers of the light.

I want to know what your skin feels like after three days of traveling and no bother of a shower because what we see is more and worth more than how we feel.

You have never had to steal my breath, or take it away, somehow you have always managed to convince me to hand it over freely.

I promise to plant kisses like seeds on you body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you.

Brighter, now brighter, pay no mind to those who squint, burn with all your heat.

Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own.

Sometimes you look up and there just seems to be so many more stars than ever before. More. They burn brighter and they shine longer and they never vanish into your periphery when you turn your head. It's as if they come out for us and to remind us that their light took so long to come to us, that if we never had the patience to wait, we never would have seen them here, tonight, like this. That as much as it hurts, sometimes it's all you can do, wait, endure and keep shining, knowing that eventually, your light will reach where it is supposed to reach and shine for who it is supposed to shine for. It is never easy, but it is always worth it.

Oh what we could be if we stopped carrying the remains of who we were.

Part those sheets like holy waters and I will worship you skin like a born-again believer.

I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you.

I am filled with wonderings, questions and doubt, but of one thing I am certain: it will always be you that gives flight to the butterflies inside me; calm to the sea I have become and hope to the darkness all around us. It is you and it has always been you... you.

If I died tonight I think I would like to come back as your morning coffee. Just as strong and just as necessary.

I am a sinking ship made of unsinkable parts.

I am made from the creaking beams and rusted nails of a lonely vessel on a lonely sea. I am covered and coated, dusted with old salt water and the frail residue of moonlight.

And the sound of my smile will be the alarm clock to your morning ears.

for us THERE is only one wish to be adventurous pioneers and find ourselves at the end.

Look up more than down. See more than say. Listen more than speak. Hope more than dread. Believe more than criticize. Yes more than no. No more than maybe. Laugh more than cry. Love more than hate. See. More. See.