Nothing is not the good
Nothing is not the bad
Nothing doesn‘t tell you
whether things are joyful
or if they are sad.

Nothing has sound of unheard sigh
and a witness in the mirror‘s eye.

It feeds you with memories on a fast food plate
without the scales to weigh its weight.

It smells like thin breath of common air
in which you die before you dare.

Nothing is not the good
Nothing is not the bad
And none of the fools knows
if you‘ve gone already mad.

This is the creature which commands my heart?
Which demands my respect and defines my reasons,
For which I refuse to depart?  

This creature in front of me.

What must I try,
Or even ask why?  

Is it a need to impress upon the rest?
That I was I,
Or that she was somehow best for me?

For I have since gone on to see,
That she is but a creature,
And that I am but a small shard of humanity.

Is there proof of this,
Which I have missed?
Quite possibly.

Or am I somehow immune to the truth,
That I am the only one who sees,
Or that my soul alone is the one which pleads,
To be apprciated?

Would you tell me this?

Or is life just meant to be,
A bitter tasting hollow test which I must best,
In a single man’s own exclusivity?

Why must I define such a simple thing?
Why can we not just coincide with empathy?

But to say that joy and empathy are the same,
Is nothing more than a lie to me.

Only recently have I begun to understand,
That I must stand,
Alongside a girl who is not the result of a lesser man.

One who knows the self and serves not pride.
Show me such a creature before my eyes,
And my heart will fly.

You are a tornado.
You spin anyone too close to you, leaving them in a dizzy fit.
You break them before they break you.

No wonder I thought I loved you.
A tornado like me.
Promising trouble at every turn.

You whispered, "I love you".
Presenting it with secrecy.
Holding me hostage with twisted logic.

I am a tornado, I admit it.  
And two tornados only bring more chaos.
I'm self-destructive but, you're too much for me.

Your lips were drowned in chloroform.
And I kissed you for the burn.
The same way I smoke cigarettes to pollute my lungs.

We drag each other to hell.
Shoot each other's hearts.
Naming it love, so we don't have to call it "just ***".

You were always too much for me.
Too much chaos.
In return, I was presented with such little love.

We wrapped up each other's hearts.
Hid them in the shelves.
And danced away our summer days in my sheets.