rulers

they say we leave this world just the way we came into it-

naked and alone.

so if we do leave with nothing,

what then is the measure of a life?

is it defined by the people we choose to love?

or is life simply measured by our accomplishments?

and what if we fail?

or are never truly loved?

what then?

can we ever measure up?

or would the quiet desperation of a life gone wanting drive us mad?

she..

and his world would be whole again.

and his belief in God,

and love,

and art

would be reawakened in his heart.

magic

make a wish and place it in your heart.

anything you want.

everything you want.

do you have it?

good.

now believe it can come true.

you never know where the next miracle is gonna come from.

the next smile.

the next wish come true.

but if you believe that it's right around the corner,

and you open your heart

and mind

to the possibility of it-

to the certainty of it-

you just might get the thing you're wishing for.

the world is full of magic.

you just have to believe in it.

so make your wish.

do you have it?

good.

now believe in it. 

with all your heart.

home

one of these days you're gonna wake up 

and feel that same ache in your chest that i feel every morning 

and you're gonna realize how much i love you. 

and whenever that day is, 

i'll still be waiting for you. 

and you'll come home to me.

all kinds of happy

been a while.

just opened up the big "boy box" to add in a few more happy memories, and ended up spending the last hour and a half going through everything...reading old letters, cards, notes written in class, pictures drawn, smelling dried up roses, looking at pictures, concert and play tickets, and watching homemade movies. and i was flooded with an overwhelming sense of happiness.

its amazing to me how something ending can make you so sad for such a while, but then looking back on the little things that made it all so great 1 and 2 years later can make you so happy. laugh so hard. smile so much. and be so proud of yourself.

but i guess those are just signs that any sadness suffered... was worth it. 

streets

our eyes were the sound the sirens make.

this

the credits are still rolling from the graffiti movie we watched tonight and i am asleep. 

i don't think you loved it, but you're still here with me -

my room glowing blue from the screen making my hair a slightly less harsh shade of red and you are so beautiful lying there next to me. 

i am asleep, but i can see from above, from the world where dreams meet our real selves, that you are awake - taking in every moment, every detail, every breath with care. 

you want to absorb everything about this moment - our moment - so you can go home and write all that you remember. 

so you can paint the details on the walls around your heart.

will you write that i held you as if i'd never see you again?

or that tangling ourselves at the piano is becoming a habit? one i never want to break.

will you write that i think you're wonderful?

or that you have the voice of an angel? the kind that can penetrate anyone wherever they are in their lives.

will you write that i ache to see you again?

or that i think of you always?

i hope you will.

will you write that as i lay here asleep, with you awake next to me, you can feel my heart beating against yours?

pounding against its walls and trying to break free at all costs,

just so it can have one more dance with yours tonight?

i hope you will.

will you write that this time you don't want to kiss my sleeping eyes goodnight?

or that you won't?

i hope you will.