It's too late to stop now,
and far too early to start over.

Strip enough lights from our lives
and you'll find that we're all blind.

Feeling along walls,
and stubbing our toes
in the long darkness.

Be my light, my Polaris,
be my full moon in the night,
and save me from myself.

Save me from this begotten hell
that we've so carefully crafted
within our own hearts and minds.

The hate is killing me.

These cigarettes hate you.
This beer hates you.
These shots of brandy hate you.
The blunt hates you.

But I swear I still love you.

Again we've come 'round, baby,
living in this dead end town.
When I stop to think about
the days gone by,
it makes me resent
all the decisions
that I was too afraid to make,
and all the time we've wasted
not ******* the nights away
or robbing banks together
or traveling the world
or going to plays
or just loving each other.

I resent all this wasted time
spent alone, baby..

But, maybe if we did end up together
you'd turn out to be
a real numb ****,
and I'd be longing
to be alone.

I'll never know.

Allow me to project my insides
Beside your ear.
Certainly you can
Determine how the
Emptiness within my body
Forgoes the exuberance
Gathered on the surface.
Haphazardly phrased fragments
I speak
Just to be heard, even faintly.
Knowing my words
Level worlds,
Monopolize hearts,
Negate negativity,
Omitted from the explicit.
Perfectly formed fractures
Qualm me as they
Reverberate through my body
Slithering their way
Through Timothy's
Universe.
Viciously assaulting
Where they fit best.
Xenobiotic and almost parasitic
Yarns about a
Zealous life not yet lived

Honest John waits In his car.
peaks through his rear view mirror at the glass door. watching.
The engine is off.
cold air nips at his nose and ears.
ice caps cover grass.
the night pitch black
No moon in the sky.
few stars due to the city smog.

A Dim glow from inside the restaurant
Casts shadows in the parking lot.
She hides in them.

Rolling carts march uniform right on schedule
hauling trash to dumpsters just outside.
Honest john watches her slip on a Latex Glove.
*** a cigarette.
She doesn't want honest john to smell the cigarette on her hands.
He doesn't know.

Honest John's Phone buzzes.
He answers.
Told that "work is going late."
She "won't need a ride tonight."
"Won't be home tonight."
Honest John asks where she's going.

"oh, out with my lady friend.
Sarah, haven't seen her since high-school"

"Alright." Says Honest John.
"Have fun." He bit his tongue for the sake of not seeming Crazy again.
It wasn't very honest of him.

She climbs up into red Truck with
The man.
smoke billows out the windows as they screach off howling in the rearview mirror.

Honest John has always hated her lying.

John Loves Crying.
It's honest.
Not just his own tears.
Being the shoulder to cry on is johns momment of ecstasy.
Tears are Beautiful on everybody.
Nobody cries without a reason.

Alone John Smokes Djarum Blacks.

They're the most honest of cigarettes.
Don't paint themselves White
Try passing as innocent or pure.
Just Blatantly say
"Hey, we're way worse for you then a normal cigarette.
"This is slowly killing you"
John appreciates that
even though they're slowly killing him,
At least they are honest about it.

John speaks his mind.
Just as he beleives it.
won't risk leaving words
unsaid again.
but there is one word
he's troubled being Honest about.

Love.

Everytime he doesn't say it.
It kills him slowly.
which would be fine,
if love didn't lie.