While folded over me like an envelope
ready to mail, you sit there and think
and think and think while I try to cope
with lips so impossibly pink.
It takes two good hours before you tell me
that your body is a temple and love,
that infuriating thing, is not something we
should look into, except when it's from above.
I stare at you and try not to slur
when I say that that makes you your own god,
your own worshipper, your own designer,
and not exempt from being flawed.
Despite this you let me go, your hands thinner
than my ego; I decide then it's alright to be a sinner.

Sometimes I just sit here
at my desk,
on this computer
waiting to get a message back from you

I do nothing else,
I just sit here
'cause I want an answer to something
or I just want to imagine the sound of your voice

But I know you're off eating breakfast,
or reading a good book,
or outside, or drawing,
or playing piano
even though you might not say you're off to do any of those things

Sometimes
with everything you do
as I'm sitting here
waiting to hear back from you
I almost wish
you didn't have better things to do with your time

The Beatles had Penny Lane
But all I have is an empty lane
Nothing do I hear; in my ears
Nothing do I see: in my eyes
Except for the salty tears
And the living on French fries.
Writing songs which sound out of key
But at least I’m still glad to be free
Bad verse; sure bad prose
It doesn’t matter to those
Who live with Lucy in the sky
That one with those diamonds
That helps her definitely get by
She sure captures those dumb minds
All that talk of her diamonds
Certainly never ever ends;
For nothings at the end of a Rainbow
But only Ritchie Blackmore
Who moved from Purple to vibgyor
Oh sheesh, do I have to spell it out
the colors of the Rainbow
though still no more
lingers on in mortal souls
but I just write bad verse
Bad verse; sure bad prose
It only gets worse and worse
And then they simply say,
“All you need is Love”
But I did then say
It is the loveless that seek
love that they never ever keep

Don't look at me like that,
like I've done something stupid.

That is my dad's look, the look
he gives me when I say or do
something particularly dumb,
usually when helping him work
on the car, and I hand him the wrong wrench.

His steel-blue eyes fix on me and
try to penetrate the fog within,
searching for the place that will
confirm the obvious,

I must have been switched at birth.

I am so tired of chasing love, so tired of begging and pleading. I am just tired.
You can tell me you love me over and over and over again but it makes no difference to me.
I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, you don't mean it anymore. But still I beg and I beg to feel like I am anything at all and with every cry for your attention, I grow more tired. I lost trust in you long ago. Maybe you slept with her, maybe you didn't. Maybe it's all in my head. But even so, it's there and it's a nightmare I dream every time I close my eyes. This has happened to me before, I've been cheated and lied to time and time again and I want to believe you're different. I want to believe that you're the one that's going to stay. But I can feel you leaving, every day I wait for you to say your last goodbye. And mean it this time. I love you so goddamn much and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for wanting you so bad that I'm willing to get hurt in the process. I've built my life around you, I've created a future in my mind that I don't think I'll ever have. Maybe everybody was right, I'm too young to fall in love but if I'm old enough to get my heart broken than how can that be? I'm sick of seeing love letters to my friends, I'm sick of reading the words that they write. "I'll always love you", "we are forever", "you are the only girl in the world for me", you used to write these things. These are the things that made me feel safe and secure. Now I'm always watching my back in fear of turning around to see you writing these things to somebody else. I'm tired of waking up every morning asking the same questions, Am I pretty enough? Am I skinny enough? Am I good enough? and I always give myself the same answer, no. Because I'm not any of those things and nobody can tell me otherwise. I'm just tired of hurting and you telling me that you've been trying. You want to fix things. But what you've done to my mind isn't easy to fix and you don't have the time or patience to deal with it. And you're tired too I bet. You're tired of me constantly asking you to love me, constantly not trusting you, constantly being upset with you and I know that. I don't want to do those things but you have to meet me half way. Treat me like a queen and I'll treat you like my king. It's really as simple as that. I'm so tired of hoping things will change.

Living reality is difficult,
Fantasies are what keep you smiling.
In the chamber of my mind,
Forever seems absolutely possible.
But what is this holding onto forever?
Even though each moment with you I spend as if it’s the last,
And think of no other space or time,
Later on I say ‘I want to be with you forever.’
These words will only bring the end closer.
Not closer in a sense that the end will come faster,
Though this can also be true,
But when it does come it is the biggest blow to the heart
I have known.
The hypocrite part of me is showing now,
For even as I write this truth of love,  
I can’t let go of you…

Most mornings,
I can still feel your memories crawling,
like ants,
up and over the creases in my skin,
collecting my scars like leaves.
Sometimes I can feel the strongest burrowing,
until I can feel them gnawing on the surface
of that soft grey thing we call a brain.
until I can't remember the order
of those strange sounds we call our names.

So you see,
it wan't my fault—
when you asked me the time I told you I loved you.
I was never any good at writing love poems, darling—
in the same way I was never any good at loving the right things.
Like a kid with 26 cavities loves candy,
each time you bit my neck I fell in love with the bruises.
Sometimes I still press my fingers against my collarbones
trying to re-create  your violet imprints.

Say my name one more time.
It always sounded scarlet on your tongue.
Cast your fishhook words at my shins—
until I  can feel the syllables sinking through my skin—
until I can feel myself limping forward again.

These days—
they call me unstable,
like a half-brokes table.
And I keep trying to slip things
under the too-short leg
but nothing seems to hold me up anymore.
It's been 7 months and I still shake each times someone tries to lean on me—
I used to be someone people could lean on.

Summer is coming fast and i'm still to faded from the winter to greet it with open arms.
I've fallen in love with the cold and I'm not ready for the too-bright sun
to kiss burns on my pale shoulders.
I miss the overcast days too,
like us,
uncomfortably blue.
I used to believe you loved me too—
It's 6:26 am and I'm still thinking of you.

Before you do it
Come take my hand
We're going for a walk.

I know just what you're going to do
And I think we need to talk.

We'll go left
Or we'll go right
The choice is up to you.

Our path depends on only one thing
How do you see you?

The path you choose
Is left
So that's the way we'll go.

It's a path of feeling worthless
Just so that you know.

Right now
I need to show you
What you're going to miss.

If you choose to give up now
And give in to the devil's kiss.

Look right there
That's your family
They're at your first preformance.

But I don't think you'll be there
Because you've given up on dance.

Over there
You'll see your grandparents
They're holding your new guitar.

But I don't think you'll be there
Because you've given up who you are.

To you're right
You'll see a guy
He wants to ask you out.

But I don't think you'll be there
Because you've picked a different route.

I would go on
But I won't say more
I think you understand.

Now I want you to answer me this
Do you still want your life to end?

See I was right
Listen to me
This is a better way.

You're heading in a new direction now
So I've got one last thing to say.

Whipe the blood
Off of your hand
And put the blade away.

Your life is worth more than you think
Tomorrow will be a better day.