You're a steady stream of bad choices waiting to happen.

The eye of the storm, or the calm before it?
What's the difference?
It's going to ruin you anyway.
You're a constant trickle of water, wanting to make noise but too scared to do it.
Because you're a puppet controlled by strings.
Water controlled by the trap.

I wish my life was like a game show where you press the buzzer and you're eit...

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You inspire me to be more than I am, 

It has been unconscious since our meeting.

I strive for your affirmation,

To have my hopes dashed by my own hubris.

My pinnacle is your salvation,

But just to conjoin myself to your journey is its own reward 

I am enamoured by your presence 

Your beauty is Maine's first solstice.

I could not delineate my narrative to you,

In fear of ...

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If your minds eye was open,

Would you consider an unabashed divulgance?

Your forthright nature checks my exubernace

Your beauty makes me timourous

I suppress my passion in fear of your answer

Do i dare wonder about consequence?

You make me feel alive, there is no other, there is no level i can gratify

I would be yours, if not for the latitude of convention.

You bring me joy

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Perhaps from a distance

my love is not strange to you;

this passion may be a punishment

and not even have the fortune to see you again

I look for you in my fingerprints

in indelible memories;

I discover that everything was a mistake

of bitter remembrances and misunderstandings

This long wait is a punishment that chokes me to death;

wishing to have you with me

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In silence I recall the encounter,

passion written in letters I still keep

and in a desolate corner of some dream

I embrace the loneliness I had to accept

Remember me in the depths of your thoughts, 

treasuring that moment

that without laid out rules,

I wrote my verses

of you next to me

In the nights most of all,

with joy and melancholy,

I am reminded of ...

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Sweet love you got something i havent had before and im a lover you just cant ignore

Hold your hands and open doors

Amazing thats what you are in every tense of the world

You give me butterflies in the dead of winter 

And in the summer time i get flurries

Feeling the beaming of the sun hitting my face in the morning 

You sleeping to the beating of my chest 

Waking up to me car...

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Résumé / Michael Kwack

Love is,

like art,

dull without passion.

Marriage is,

like enterprise,

tough without fortune.

Home is,

like chair,

harsh without comfort.

Life is,

like sleep,

dry without dream.

Death is,

like letter,

empty without story.

Will is,

like poem,

absurd without wit.

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Don't ever let anyone convince you 
to not share your soul songs. 

The weaponized words 
they hurl towards you, 
are formed from 
their own insecurities. 

You get one shot, 
in this time and space, 
accompanied by 
crabs in a bucket, 
and a host of other cliches,
determined to control 
your creative mind. 

Give in to dark energy,
and you become it. 

Rise above it. 

By sha...

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