I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if the love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
after you broke me
I was looking for different fingers
to place different pieces and hoping  the outcome
would be a masterpiece
Maybe one of them would find a way
to cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself
you wouldn't be the only one
that these scars marking my body wouldn't define
my worth to be loved
I am not entirely sure  
you aren't the only one who could ever touch me without slightly  flinching

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay

I would never again
touch another drop
If it meant you'd be forever
but until then
allow me to drink myself
into complacency

Ever see someone on a bus,
On a train,
Or in a park?

And they smile,
Or tuck their hair behind an ear,
Laugh,
Or even quietly frown.

Ever see someone in public,
And picture a life?
Envision a fleeting world where you swallow fear,
And smile?

Ever catch a glimpse of a life you could live?

Sinking,
       the drifting ceiling of blue and grey light
illuminating the ride.

Suffocating,
       grasping for something, anything,

A light in the dark,
       the eternal fading,
the last residuals of the cold falling away,

And then the transitory returns.
       The golden sun, wind kissed waves,
and a weather beaten hand catching yours,
       a call, joyful, echoed the gull high above,
as safety brings the glow of liberty.

When it happened
I was sitting in the corner of a busy cafe
Reading- nothing really in particular
But the song is the important cue here.

I heard it at first
Distant and faint like butterfly wings
Then it grew louder
Blame it on the night
My eyes rose from the pages
Dont blame it on me
Faintly into my ears

It's sad really
I wanted to steady myself up
Push the book into the seat
and cross the room as our eyes locked
Until we were standing breaths apart

But when I looked up
I knew **** well you wouldn't be there
Why would you be?
And I wondered
As my mind still made the image of us dancing in the middle of this coffee shop seem more like a reality

Would we ever dance again?
Maybe some day, of course not now, but distant
Perhaps in different lifetimes
However; most likely never at all