This one time, I fell in love with a scarecrow
A face chiseled from spare hand-me-downs
patches to cover the leaks
graffiti to ward off the ones who thought they were freaks
reclusive, yet humble enough to find peace

This one time, I decided it was over
I left that one time with patches to cover the leaks
I roamed with the stride of a fighter
a keep out sign to signify that I was in need
I know you'd say "if it were me, I would leave"

This one time, I went back to his post
dead trees, broken dreams and broken wings
and it was there that his cries called out to me
the crows called out,
feeding their hunger through his defeat

And that day, I left defiant
wiping the blood from my cheeks
the stride of a champion,
evidence of a slate wiped clean

you could say that I'm not clean
that I'm no better, maybe worse

my schemes are pointless thoughts scribbled on notebook paper
that my thoughts are pointless schemes scribbled on notebook paper
and I'd have to say that I'm just here to tell you,
I like to bring home the scruffy scarecrow that breaks the crows wings
and that if you were to request that he act like a civilized human being,
he would simply reply, "civilized my syphilized yarbles!!!"

Pretentiousness drenches us like an insecure rain
Hiding our lack of intelligence, our dull wit, our bland ordinariness
That suggests we're nothing but grain
In a bronze field of millions of other strands, the same.
That try so hard to understand, but do not retain.
Moving back and forth in the wind from another field
Better than us, but we arrogantly refuse to see, let alone yield.

Reading Ulysses, Dylan Thomas, Catcher in the Rye
Used to be different and genius, but everyone made it so dry
With their 'brilliant' interpretations, or contrived relation
Claiming themselves as the people the pages always cried.
They degraded works that used to give those genuine elation.
There is nothing as sad as watching words disintegrate into a lie.
And there's nothing as disgusting than those who swallow the ink
Regurgitating the letters into what they try to believe is their natural drink

i read an article about what happens when one loses a parent suddenly
with no warning
when the person is still a little kid

the girl is predicted to glorify her father
and forget the negatives
she is predicted to fall into depressions and eating disorders
and have low self esteem because there was no man around her as she grew up to tell her she was pretty

i don't know what my dad dying did to me
nature vs nurture is a debate that can never truly be tested
would i still be like this if he was here? is this emptiness just preprogrammed into my mind?
would i still look at girls the wrong way? still be unable to completely trust or give my heart to a boy?
these questions haunt me
they can't be answered

i could see it pretty easily
the two of us watching indie movies, cuddled under a blanket
going to concerts and not getting lost in the crowd
because we stand out to each other
eating an entire box of pizza- just the two of us

i don't know how others would see us
whether we would be the couple people notice in the hallway
if we would only tell a couple people
what we meant to each other

it's weird
i want to be around you
but i don't know in what context just yet

we have infinite potential lives
i can almost see how my life would play out with her
we would decide to hang out and watch mindless tv
shifting closer and closer to each other, side-eyeing when the other isn't watching; but we're both secretly watching each other instead of the show
i don't know how i'd bring it up that i'm into her, or even remotely have an idea on how i'd make a move
but in this infinite possibility world, i could figure it out
we'd keep it casual at first, just the occasional sleepover turned into a makeout session, then maybe further
we wouldn't tell our parents and the door would be closed
we'd probably tell our close friends, but not the whole school
we'd be lying in bed together one night at 3 am
when she'd ask me if i wanted to be something more, if i liked her that way
but how could i not?
she was special, passionate, always friendly always compassionate and this strange type of beauty that you just don't find down the street
i'd tell her of course, and maybe we'd tell more people and walk in public hand in hand
i can see it
i don't know if we would last
but i know i would cherish our time forever

ＯＮＥ:
i miss the
way your
body sinks
into my
mattress
marking your
beauty finitely

ＴＷＯ:
and I also
miss how
your tired
kisses came
with soft
promises of
forever

ＴＨＲＥＥ:
i wonder
about who
stains your
cheeks now
with red
praise and
scarlet i love yous

ＴＨＲＥＥ＆ａＨＡＬＦ:
she would
never love you
as much as
i do

ＦＯＵＲ:
and i miss
you so much
i fall asleep
to the monotone
of myself
counting the days
of how long it has
been since
your departure

ＦＩＶＥ:
and to pass
my time
i count the
times you
told me you
loved me
with absent
ghost eyes

ＳＩＸ:
i'm trying
to live with
the ribs you
broke and
the air
you left

ＳＩＸ＆ａＨＡＬＦ:
but how can
i go on
with the bones
you left me?

ＳＥＶＥＮ:
i'll keep trying
but it's hard
when my
memories
of you litter
my head like
the dust in
my attic

ＥＩＧＨＴ:
and how can i
go on when
you emptied me
and left me
wondering why?

ＮＩＮＥ:
i have
watched you
leave over
and over
and my zenith
sadness is
quite enough
to make
a collapsing
supernova feel
shame

ＴＥＮ:
and sometimes
I blame
love itself for
handing me
right into
your hands

ＥＬＥＶＥＮ:
but when
it's darkest
please know
that my
moon still
chases after you

ＥＬＥＶＥＮ＆ａＨＡＬＦ:
and that
i don't
hate love
for giving
you

ＭＩＤＮＩＧＨＴ:
i hate love
for residing
in my heart
infinitely when
it knew you
weren't staying
forever

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.