I fell in love with you in the midnight skies
You fell out of love with me in the sunlit sky
I am now the owner of my own darkness

Sunday afternoons
When I'm finally alone
With myself again
And I can breathe
Like a normal human being,
When I take Edgar Allan Poe
Off the shelf
And sink into his words again.
Sunday afternoons
When I stop to watch a film,
A cheesy romantic comedy
About two beautiful kids
And no one will tell me
Not to laugh so loud
Or ask me why I'm crying
Such big, heavy tears.
Sunday afternoons
When I catch up:
Tweeze my brows,
Paint my nails,
Take a bath,
Maybe sing a song or two
Like I used to when I was still young
And he called me beautiful.
Sunday afternoons
When I sit on the couch,
Stare at the ceiling,
And dream of Adam
In the perfect quietness of the house,
Knowing that any minute
You'll be back,
Angry and penniless
With the smell of beer on your clothes
And not a dollar to your name.

This shattered house
  I've found myself surrounded by
Breaks a little more each day
   The walls I've built and plastered
Are peeling away layers of guilt
    Hanging mirrors with shadows of reflections
    Ghosts of ink spilt
This floor, these bricks, the cement out the doorstep
     Pavement falling apart from where so many shoes have walked
   Decorated with outlines of broken hearts in chalk
      If these walls could talk
They'd tell stories of rage and pain,
   Of the misery born into its foundation
           Day after day
If these cupboards could hold as many secrets as those walls have heard
    Of the lies they've tried to hide away inside, they would burst
      If you could save the tear drops that have fallen under this crumbling roof top
    Then you could drown this dilapidated house
       Bury it alive with no doubt that the years of emotion and agony it's kept hidden inside
  Will easily and willingly have peace when it dies
       The color of the paint would simply be forgotten before the end of the day
     The torn and rotten foundation would just be ripped away and replaced
  With stronger cement at its base for someone new to cling to
      And new walls and paint for another soul to suffer through
  But this shattered house still stands
      There's no plans to rebuild all these shards of my broken heart splattered on the ground
   And nothing will ever replace my soul when this house falls down

Debits on the left credits on the right
balancing such wastefull transactions
debits on the left credits on  the right
hating myself for youthful actions
debits on the left credits on the right
Who told you about job satisfaction?