twtyh

Are you looking for me? Then we can look together I believe that I am supposed to find myself But where do I start looking? Maybe you have an idea Do you know where to look? For I have lost my way Could it be that you might know... Do you know what I like to do? Would I like to climb a mountain or would I prefer to read a book? Oh my I forgot Once again I am lost You have not got the answer You were looking about for me Shall you take my hand? Do you mind to walk along? I would rather have some company Than to walk alone I am lost enough as it is Without directions we would go But to be lost together Is easier than to be

Your hands...Catch me as I start to fall, Lifting me way up high, I close my eyes, give you my all, And let my heart fly. These feelings build up in me, Wanting to be freed, My hands want to meet yours' And quench this need. Your hands...All over my body They run, Making me see how loving can be fun. All this teasing All this feeling I can't wait to fulfill this want.

His eyes are dark like a creamy chocolate, but not milk chocolate, this is the rich kind; maybe a bit like how Dove would be all swirled and melted in a bowl. Or maybe they are more like the kind eyes of a deer, always so calm and always so knowing. It's interesting how eyes are like that, so calm and knowing when you are least expecting it. And yet, that doesn't seem to describe why they are so different, so unique. Maybe it's how his eyes crinkle right when he laughs; not just the soft way that comes with politeness, but with more character and true emotion. Maybe that's why his eyes are so special. It's becaus

From body to soul and in between, They blotch the parchment that is me; I know of worse flaws I have seen, But surely I am flawed. I sometimes lose my temper, Use my mouth before my mind; I ponder things I could do better, And regret them for a time. I can be harsh, I can be blunt, I tend to hide my thoughts; But this is far from what I want: To be in someone's heart. Comparisons are hard to make Since we are all unique. But half the time my words are fake; The real me is a freak. Regardless, These flaws define me, describe me— They make me what I am. In that light, I'm proud to say that I am flawed.