i could feel
the winds throughout the desert
but so am i like the changing gusts and tempests  
just as the blossoms once felt their petals fall away
when they wilted old and fragile in the fray
but now the leaves are calling out as they are whisked onward
my wayward miracles of life
and yet still i ponder
my life to wander
through those pebbles of time
for sand is far too fine
though these tears of mine
may be dried like summers sweet wine
on your lips
taken into that callous mouth of yours
which knows only how to spit words out
so vile to be heard
as i sit here yet again, unperturbed
for any emotion in this world
is absurd

i like girls
and boys
and cats
and dogs
and fruits
and vegetables
and light
and dark
and black
and white
and wine
and water
but i'm different
because i like both sexes
because i don't care whether you have
***** or a *******
because i can't tell anyone that i want to try having a girlfriend
because then i won't have friends
and i won't be able to live with my roommate anymore
and my family won't love me anymore
i'm not ashamed
but i'm ashamed because you'll be ashamed
but i can't say for sure
you're ashamed aren't you??

i have a secret
i may be bi
its wonderful, really
i really wish they would understand though
i hope you dont judge me fore having a preference for girls
sorry, its just me
boys are pretty cool too

all i ever do is ache. there are places where the color in my cheek blotches and it is in those spots that resides a quiet desperate yearning for the touch of your lips--

tears leave just as many wayward streaks as dripping paint on canvas, only i'm not art.

how can I miss the hands that I never even got to hold?
i'm pretty sure palm readers know more intimacies than any soul on earth. i have yet to discern a single line of yours. or our lines. where do we begin? lines are infinite but existence is but a piece. does that make our love a line fragment? or are we more substantial than that?

how do i miss old places that i've never been to? i can't remember if color value was the same as valuing us. One can only make shapes when there is light and shadow but i'm not sure how to shade us from impending erasure on this page. how can i reminisce about the touch of your skin when all I got was a brief glance off your arm? i swear it made a mark on me but i never once could find it. my bruises still linger though. darling, is it possible to love without letting go?

these are the things that consume me.

ghosts lined up on the wall
no waiting now just be ready for the fall
for the beginning of it all
a dream colliding into a new light
the old ghosts fight the never-ending fight
the wall buckles under the pressure of it all
no more ghosts lined up on the wall
the life of the dead leave an empty rattle
the worlds most silent battle
step left march right the beat of the drum
the new sound makes the ghosts reminisce
of the worlds most silent battle
the new chime awakes the heaviest
There Is No Escape Not Even In Death

& i dont mean physically
you turned your mind off to me
you shut down & backed out
i was staring at the corpse
of the girl that once laughed
she could breathe life into the room
but now youre a walking tombstone
with the words
i rest in pieces
carved haphazardly into the front
now the only peace of mind i have
is that it wasnt me who killed you
it was your own heart
racing faster than a freight train
& when it beats out of your chest
maybe ill see the real you
soaked in blood
& charging for the exit
not unlike the last time we spoke
i swear you threw the door off its hinges
like you ripped our pages
out of the book
& used them to wrap your cigarettes
breathing in our words
like tobacco
feeding off our feelings
like nicotine
you smoked yourself into a stupor
& wiped your mind clean
of any thought of me

[holyoak]