I've been waiting for him to come back for an entire year, holding onto the hope that maybe he's looking at the same stars as me and maybe he's listening to that song that reminds him of me but nothing numbs the pain of him leaving. He's falling in love with a new girl every night and even though it will always be him for me he's going to keep moving on until eventually I'll be just another spot in his memory, a blur hidden in his past and I've tried my hardest to move on. I keep wishing someone else would break my heart but I guess I forgot that he took my heart with him when he left. I speak to any man with the same accent as him like maybe it'll keep the memory of him here...I don't want him to disappear. maybe he's forgotten all about me but I'll never forget the first time he said he loved me like it was something he was unsure of like he was scared of it and I was scared too, because there was nothing more beautiful than the way his eyes lit up every time he smiled or the way he walked like he was taking up too much space while at the same time taking up no space. every time I come close to loving anyone else I am reminded of the day he told me to wait for him and the truth is I forgot my own name when I learned his and I think I would wait until the universe collapsed in on itself if it meant I could hear his voice once again.

I can't help it that sometimes I smile at car crashes.
It reminds me of how he'll leave.
When he looks at me, my hands feel like burning matches.

His smile looks like lightning flashes,
I keep thinking the electric shock might help my heart start to beat.
I can't help it that sometimes I smile at car crashes

Our story will soon be only ashes,
I guess I need to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve.
When he looks at me, my hands feel like burning matches.

Tell me why my hands keep shaking like avalanches,
he can't see that he only makes me bleed.
I can't help it that sometimes I smile at car crashes.

I keep thinking he only took my heart to cache it,
this isn't something that I can grieve.
When he looks at me, my hands feel like burning matches.

His shirt is stiff with blood splashes,
he's looking at his hands like this is something he can't believe.
I can't help it that sometimes I smile at car crashes.
When he looks at me, my hands feel like burning matches.

Curiouser
And
Curiouser
I follow you
down
  down
    down
      Into the most
       Odd little world of
         Madness and magic
           Jubjub and Jabberwocky
              Red-painted white roses;
                 Such a beautiful adventure
                      I have only dreamt about.
                    Still I'm bothered by how,
                   Even in a place like this,
               You only think of the time.
            My dearest white rabbit,
         I would truly hate to see
     All of Wonderland
  go and
pass
you
by.

You there, I see you with your sullen eyes
looking down at your feet, your back hunched forward,
turning away from the cacophony, the loud words they throw at you.
The arrows they fire dig into your back, and you let it bleed.
Your body a constellation of bruises.
You laugh, a glass of wine in your hand.
You call them beautiful, a beautiful mess.
But, my dear, I see them every time you turn around.
Trust me, your pain isn’t beautiful. It’s not meant to be.

You’re good at hiding your hurt:
you put it underneath patchwork blankets
you wrap it like christmas presents
and stack them on your bookshelf.
You collect it. You save it old green bottles.
You cut your pain into pieces
and hang it up like art.

Sometimes, however, you aren’t so subtle.
I can hear the anger behind your singing,
see how your fingers shake every time
your cigarette touches your lips.
I can feel your heartbeat rippling through you,
as I’m sure you do,
when I hold your hand, trying to steady it.
And I wish, more than ever
that I could make it better.

Perhaps I can’t change things.
I can’t change what has happened
or what will.
But don’t you dare think
I’m going to let you rust away.
Every time that layer of oxide forms on you,
I will be right there to clean you up
Until you don’t need me to anymore.
Giving up on yourself is the easy way out
and even though I’m lazy,
I’m not going to let you take it.
I will drag you through the mud,
lift you when you think
you can’t take another step.
Through the dirt we will fight,
like comrades on a battlefield.
Both of us will emerge alive and victorious
on the other side.

I’m a good friend, I will help you lose those ten pounds
But don’t for a second think I’m going to let you
shrink yourself out of fear of taking up too much space.
When the crowds hit you with their acidic words,
I can’t promise that I can keep them all from hitting you
but I will help you wash away the ones that do.
Together, we can watch the words dissolve into water.
And your pain with it.

All of this, I can only do if you’re willing to let me.
All I need to know, is that if I hold out my hand
will you place yours in it?