and for a moment there our hands almost touched

but I didn't know what to say
it was late and we were both drunk
the sky had been dark for hours
and everyone inside the house was loud and
I could barely hear myself think

and I wanted to tell you
so much it hurt my chest
and the ice unfolded in my stomach
and killed all the butterflies

but I knew you'd never think of me
that way and so we just sat
on the railing outside some kid's house

and I swallowed all the love I felt for you
bitter and writhing and alive in my throat
and stayed silent as the sun came up

both stubborn as hell
it was never gonna work
but that look in his eye
still has you feeling like dirt
a new doorstep with suitcase and guitar
lock doesn't click
so you break down the door
you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue

feeling numb, not at all right
if you were a man you'd go out, pick a fight
search for that feeling
when your brother broke your nose
how to get over this?
nobody knows
but you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue

a week puking your guts out over the loo
if its gotta come out, it'll come, that's proof
doc pokes at your ribs
during your visa medical
you'll probably blend in better now
bit more acceptable
and you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue

at the back of your mind
you still don't know
why it ended the way it did
why it all stopped to flow
if it couldn't work with him
can it ever work out?
but it doesn't really matter does it -
that's what it's all about
coz you do have time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue.




- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I couldn't find who I am
Tell a soul
Why I'm damned
It's lost to me / lost to me

Get lost with me / lost with me
I've lost my way
Can you tell me please
Who I am today

So call me the doctor
Defrocked saint provocateur
whirlwind modern mess
All paradoxes in tension
I digress

So yeah tell me a story baby
And tell it to me true
I'll open up my veins
To all the lies / your sweet lies
That make up you

Get lost with me / lost with me
I've lost my way
Can you tell me please
Who I am today

Yeah we're all just paper lions
Roarin then cryin
Picture perfect Myriad contradictions alignin

So yeah tell me a story baby
And tell it to me true
I'll open up my veins
To all the lies / your sweet lies
That make up you

So yeah whisper your secrets baby
I'll make every one come true
Yeah open up your heart baby
You don't know what it might do

Get lost with me / are you lost to me?
I've lost my way / where are you?
Can you tell me please / oh dear please
Who I am today? / who are you?

The memory of you still exists in my mind,
three years, two girlfriends, and a thousand bottles later.
The way i look for your eyes in a crowd is unsettling,
searching each face as they walk by in their own quiet parallel universe
unaware of the longing for the comfort of your soft voice and gentle touch
I look for you because you still are the one,
the one who suffered with me without question and saved me when i was in need.
Salvation was in large supply.
Redemption was a certainly familiar entity.
and the road to your heart was a unpaved trail through the wilderness of time and space.
Let it be the one i stay on till the end.

I pressed my left heel down to get it into the strap of my sparkled sandal--bought from the cheap version of the rich girl store; I got them more than half off.
I'm a fraud.

Sliding my foot into the shoe,
the way I've done so many times before,
I lose my balance.

And there goes the first one.
I knew the nails were coming off;
I'm not all that wealthy.

I have to wait until the last minute to cough up fifteen bucks to get these things re-done.
I thought it just popped the nail straight off,
but it throbs and is begging for me to pay it some attention.

I peer down at where the once perfectly manicured nail (baby blue tips and all) had sat upon my index finger.
It has left a bloody mess--jagged and imperfect.

I can see my real nail drawn up next to my cuticle like a smile.
Placed on top is a half moon of hardened acrylic until it breaks off near the soft doughy point of my freshly exposed fingertip.
Edgy.
Almost.

The blood lines the rim and trickles it's way down
curving its way around the smile;
highlighting the crescent of my own fingernail.
It throbs.

“Fuck.”
I say wanting someone to hear me.
“FUcK.”
a little louder.

I just want to complain lately.
I want a little attention for the suffering I put my own self through.
As I wait it throbs more.

I wipe the blood away just to watch it refill.
I walk down the stairs,
and they take care of me.
They give me my oohs and ahhs and owes,
put some ointment on a paper towel because we don't have bandaids,
wrap it with tape,
and I'm off to sew my dress back together for dinner.

My sister's dress;
my sister's dress that she got from a nearby neighbor
who stuffed it in a trash bag and left it there for us to take.

Maybe I will get a discount.

I forfeit the bet
I tried my best
But your body's still worthless

Watch my ego drown
I've fallen for a clown
I can't find the way outta this town

I smiled once
But no one remembers.

There was a time before this
A time we stood perfectly still
The bear smelling the air
And we prayed to god
To leave like lovers.

Behind this little curtain, I hide.
I do not lie, but I do not tell the truth either.
I do not flash it in your face,
but I'm afraid you may know my

secret.

If this happens, everything will turn upside down
and I need to find a paper bag,
where I'll readily stuff my face in and hide under a rock
Until maybe all magically is forgotten.

I am ready to tell you the truth, however,
although my paper is transparent, a see-through glass,
piles of white lies may start to stain it and soon,
it will be so opaque you have to dig deep into there
To finally see the face that's hiding behind.

I am not desperate or a stalker,
or you know,
the one that sends you long text messages
and waits eagerly for a short reply.
Whenever I try to forget you,
you pop into my memory and tempt me into no bounds
of imagination. It's necessary I try not to follow,
but I always end up falling in the same hole.

So please understand, that if I suddenly reveal my identity,
do not be taken aback because this is what I have to do,
for you have caused me to be slightly obsessive and
longing for even a slight bit of communication between
us. The us that I dream of, the us that happened, what of it is left?

To start anew? This is rather painful. I don't want to forget, you see.
You were so lovely and sweet. How can I erase you from my memory?

People come and go, but you stay, longer than I thought you would.
This attachment is detrimental to my being. If any longer your existence influences me,
I will stop living in the present and reality and just dream on about non-existent parallels,
wasting so much time and feelings.

Okay. So this is why I'm being so secret there. You would only talk to me that way.

Because,

you wouldn't want to talk to me.

Thank you, dear, though, for that sweet little message.

I don't even know
how I came to this
the way you make me feel
overcomes anything

your absence is painful
dries me out
makes me hollow

thanks for filling me up
by just looking at me