Is there something I'm not seeing?
Something,
you're not telling me?
See,
I've been having trouble kneeling.
I don't know what to believe.

Oh I don't know
I just don't know!
Which way to turn.
Which way to face.
Which way to kneel.
I'm lost,
so very, very lost

When I was seven
I wanted to be eight
And when I was nine
I wanted  to be eleven
Then,
after that
I just wanted to be eighteen.
All this time wishing I was older
But now I am older,
I just want to be younger
And view the world from a more foggier lens,
once more.
Not know to question
oh all these decisions!
In desperation,
I search to no clear avail.
I just want more time,
but I feel time is growing faster than I

Grey clouds wrapped around the town like elastic
and cars stood like toys made of Taiwanese plastic.
Puddles splashed huddles of bus stop crows
All dressed in their suits and their boots,
they all look the same.

Pigeons pecked drains and sparks flew like planes
The rain showed the rainbows in the oil stains


Then the evening pulled the moon out of its packet,
stars shone like buttons on an old man's jacket

4am


Well I'm sick of this town!
This blind man's forage!
They take your dreams down and stick them in storage
and you can have them back someday,
when you've paid off your mortgage and loans.

As we sat in your car,
the darkness engulfing the world around us,
With nothing but the sound of a passing car
drifting on by.
I wasn't listening.
Occupied with the thought of my unflattering profile
I can't remember what you said,
or when you first held my hand.
At 2.15 am.

Do not compare pain.
Even though the strokes on your canvas
may look bigger than other strokes,
they are all drawn by,
the
same
weak
hands.

Your eyes are telling a tale
Everywhere you go

Your steps are making rhythms
silent and slow

Your head was never high
Nor does your voice

Every tremble of your hands
Every quiver on your lips
I know.