Just 5

5 reasons I love being with you:

1. You are hysterical. I cannot stop laughing when I'm with you, and if I'm not laughing I'm definanltly smiling, or trying not to. This is unfortunate, because sometimes I don't want to smile. And sometimes you kiss me, and I can't even kiss you back because your just so dang funny.
2. I can spend the entire day with you in any setting, and I still wish there was more time in the day. It takes a very special person to not get me annoyed.
3. Even if we just goof off and laugh, we can have serious convos too. About dreams, future, life, passions, relationships, God's hand in our lives, struggles.
4. We can do crazy things. Like dance in the spirnklers on the golf course, have paint wars, play ninja, tresspass in nursing homes that are under construction (not trespass, because we knew Jack Hertzel), climb and get stuck on your roof, freeze in the rain outside late at night, dancing in Franke's parking lot, bet/argue/challenge eachother all the time and usually end up with some crazy way of "paying" the person.
5. You're are so many things I'm not. sometimes I feel like a little girl watching her dad, carefully observing and learning and trying to change. Trying to be better. I'm alot of things you're not, too. So in a way, we complete and learn form eachother. And each experience, each day is something profound and new. Something to love and cherish.

Murdered

Desperately reaching for sanity. It taunts, just beyond the tips of my fingers, just beyond the horizon of reality. The miles between us should provide enough ground for my mind to wander elsewhere.
I want to be angry.
Frustrated.
Fighting.
I am morphed by your mood. It creeps into my mind, toying with inner thoughts, outer emotions. I feel what you feel, sucked into the whirlpool of private struggle and personal dissappiontment. Contagiously, words and looks soak through this ice some call skin. Layers, shudderously chilling, formed from feeling too much. I am cold and hard with you. by you. And sunlight, powerfully penetrating, can hardly warm the depths of my infected heart. I do not choose to be this way, as I believe you do not choose to be cancerous. But daily I am weary from fighting the inevitable magnent. One which can reverse a positive outlook instantly. I am left with ice, waiting for the day it cracks completley and shattered shards lay succumed to the harsh world.
I am so easily effected. Infected.
I continually fall, wanting the sunlight to break through for you, wanting to melt away. Situational happiness. Conditions. Consuming relativity.
When will you let me go?
When will you let me melt.