Long walks and promised collaborations,
An outlook you've kept to yourself.
You watch that web-series I referenced,
And, of course you have, it's just like you.

I had vivid dreams about the apocalypse,
(In the biz, we call this foreshadowing.)
And looking back now, I wish that I could --
Wish that I had never met you. (I can't.)

Unfortunately, you're intrinsic to the human experience.
Like the red flag that tempts the bull,
You've caused all this motion in me,
but this was never meant to be more than humorous.

Long walks and written songs,
Upon receiving time and effort
locked away in a ziploc bag,
we talk about meeting parents properly.

And we don't know that the end is near.
And we don't know you're friends with the devil,
You won't stay by his side, but you find a way
To hand his sins to me, pretending they're mine.

---

And I wasn't perfect,
But do you ever think about what he did?
Did your two-faced thespian ever tell you
that I never once lied?

Did he stroke your ego ?
Did he tell you how he used to curse your name,
Just for the chance of what you had ?

And did the devil, master of his craft,
Ever reveal the cracks in his story?

Did you learn too late?
Did you learn at all?

---

Four years have passed.
Do you still try to convince yourself?

---

When someone comes to you,
Helpless and alone,
Begging for someone to hear them,
Does my name taste bitter on your tongue?

When you hear the statistics,
When you know who it is,
Do you ever think about me?

It's been four years,
And you are happy.

And I, in all my disgust,
know that one day I'll forgive you.

---

And deep down, I know
You care not for what was done.

But I don't want you,
I want the floor.

I'm the ghost of the family tree;
I've pruned the branch that once held me.
And yet, in the absence of connection,
I find that I yearn for your voice.

lately, it seems when you call you speak you mind,
motion to hang up before i can even consider mine.
do i exist simply as a gateway for you to speak?

my lover leaves me lonely,
my best friend soon to be alone on a plane
back home to me; tape him up in bubblewrap
beg him never to leave

so much time is spent in this room
isolated enough to warrant yellow paper
still, the textured white walls seem sentimental
they do not feel as big as the bed

it is so lonely without you, darling
but even when you are here,
it remains so empty
i reach for you in the night.

try as i may, even when you linger
you are so far, my darling,
too far to reach; too far to hold.

and i find you only see me once i turn away.
is it my eyes that alarm you, so full of emotion?
or do you want me just close enough for warmth,
but not close enough to listen to?

the broken furniture holds your motion,
still are the shadows that hold your shape,
and i cling to the pillow that isn't quite your length
but it will let me hold it; it will let me love

i picture you in the shower,
borrowing shampoo, speaking of coconut cream
and my dreams are only tinted memories
are you leaving me in the chill of the air conditioning?

perhaps i'll never know until you finally close the door;
the season has only just begun, my darling
there are so many half hours still to yearn for you;
i'll be quiet and laugh at your commentary until the credits roll

i'll quietly await the sudden goodbye.

i feel so guilty when i hold you
to your word.
              ( you said you'd be here! )
but today i kissed the grave of my past
and wept for the girl i was
as you caught up
on much needed rest --
              but why did you stay up so late
              the day before you promised
              to stay?
. . .         . . .         . . .         . . .         . . .         . . .
i don't need you to cherish me every day,
i promise! i promise, i promise, i promise!
              but today ... would have been easier
              with you, here.
              your laugh,
              a pleasant distraction from reality.
              your voice,
              a pleasant distraction from myself.
oh well,
      there's always next year.
             i hold myself a little tighter.

comforts and consoles, but understands
that a girl like me needs more than just understanding
relish in my sweet suffering,
oh, how i adore you.

call me your good girl,
call me your lover boy,
but do these words reflect me?
or merely my desire to be desired;
to be loved, cherished, adored.

am i a girl or do i like to be praised as one
do pronouns reflect my vessel or do i simply
wish to be the shape thats molded within your grasp,

(hold me, just hold me, don't worry about who i am.)

i didn't choose my name, but it gets the job done
i didn't choose my name, but it sounds good on your tongue
i think i just want to be addressed
i think i just want someone to talk to me --
which words with a slash cause that reaction fast?

am i a good girl? am i a pretty boy?
should i do more, be more, be like them
would it suit your fancy; would i?
who am i, if not a collection of "please" and "yes"

opulent confusion;
so many options but what fits? what do i try on first?
if my perception of how i'm addressed is "it works"
then who is it working for?
am i a girl?
am i a girl? am i a girl?
or did i just like the way it felt
did i just want to be looked at and examined
and deemed necessary ... and loved ... and seen.

god, i want to be seen
but what do i want to be seen as?
who do i want to be seen as?
who do i want to be seen with?
and where should i be seen? which parts of me?
examine me, aren't i pretty?
put me on display; hang me in your gallery

but who am i? who am i? who am i?

maybe i'm just faking it
maybe i'm nothing at all

every-body but me
every body but mine
the death of a star,
i burn my brightest for you
[in the hope we'll intertwine]

why is it that she's so much prettier than me?
i flash back to a school dance,
to the image of her,
half clothed and dancing in her dorm

does she do it for you?
do i? would i? could i try-?

why is it that i'm so insecure when the habit breaks?
like you're loading a new save and i'll be replaced,
[like i'm the memory of a shirt you know you used to have.]
did you give it away? did you lend her to a friend?
did she come back stained and tattered,
balled up and laying on your floor?
is she attracting all the moths cause you don't want her anymore?

maybe i'm naive; maybe i place too much energy
in words -- in the building blocks that form life
that form like castles in the sand; or castles in the sky,
i'd love to change the ending, but you were never mine

The light pours in, and I've finally rested
The dawn is a welcoming view
I've kicked off the linens, for nothing compares
To the way I am warmed by you

Keep my eyes closed, memorize this moment
The way that your breath matches mine
And I can hear your smile through your voice
As our legs gently intertwine

How many nights did I spend hoping,
For a day that could feel like this?

The children stir from the other room,
And we cling to our "five minutes more"
The spell breaks as we stretch,
No match for their knock at the door

With smiles that crinkle at the edges,
With eyes that wrinkle in the corner,
You take on the challenge of breakfast,
As the chill begs me to dress a bit warmer.

And it occurs to me that this is it,
This is the way I knew it could be.

So, I sit content in my mirage of a marriage
Laughing at the smell of slightly burned pancakes.

And I marvel at
The phantasmagoria
That has become my waking life.

The lyrics I've written to encapsulate your presence
The inside jokes and the family first-meetings
The good and the bad and the nights left awake
Just Talking and Talking and Talking and Talking and
Sharing interests; movies, music, desires and dreams

And I . . .
don't know how to tell you
that I have no more wishes,
There's nothing left to rebuild.
There's no crystals and candles and meditation needed
to manifest what's since been fulfilled.