I always knew I'd take a bullet for you,
And you would let me.
Bleeding red, over and over.
A hole in my heart,
Where you used to be.
I have learned how to smile through the rain
How to glimpse all the bright lights in the dark
You cannot be harmed when you love the pain
And you yearn for more which to embark
I feel the cold winds again start to blow
The sun hides and I can see my own breath
Freezing, blinded, and not from all the snow
But I no longer fear impending death
However tomorrow, or next year goes
I will not be content to hide my face
In spite of everything, my passion grows
And I will never give up on the grace
Seasons change, cold does not last forever
There’s no such thing as worthless endeavors
The manic pixie dream girl wouldn't fall for you
So you fell for the poisonous girl in the red dress instead,
Thinking they were the same.
And they're quite similar, really, all mad and free.
But the difference between pixie dream girl and me
Is that she is sweet.
She'll do what she wants: She might love you, she might leave you.
I am not so sweet, not so gentle, not so soft.
I will leave you, I won't love you, and you will come crawling back.
I want you to love me until you cry
And I want you to cry for me like a dying man for breath,
A starving man for a meal,
A soaked man for the sun,
And a deserted man for rain and
I'll leave you again, crawling through the sand.
All that, just because I can.
i don’t mind
that you love him
just do it better
you better find him
he deserves to be adored
A man told me once that all the bad people
Were needed. Maybe not all, but your fingernails
You need; they are really claws, and we know
Claws. The sharks--what about them?
They make other fish swim faster. The hard-faced men
In black coats who chase you for hours
In dreams--that's the only way to get you
To the shore. Sometimes those hard women
Who abandon you get you to say, "You."
A lazy part of us is like a tumbleweed.
It doesn't move on its own. It takes sometimes
A lot of Depression to get tumbleweeds moving.
Then they blow across three or four States.
This man told me that things work together.
Bad handwriting sometimes leads to new ideas;
And a careless God--who refuses to let you
Eat from the Tree of Knowledge--can lead
To books, and eventually to us. We write
Poems with lies in them, but they help a little
a poem by Robert Bly
You were the tension they called time
I the fool they named love
Sweet lord, I'm so lonely
Every bone of mine screams so silently
But I hear it all, in this empty room
I'm lonely as the five bottles of wine over my floor,
Lonely as the lingerie over my bed
would you keep me company?
you need to discover
if the two of you
are meant to sink or swim
in an ocean
other than the one
that you turn me into