The problem with being happy
Is a lot like the problem with pluto
It was a vague way of
Describing a complex thing

Our sense of happiness is so fragile
It can be destroyed by simply asking whether or not it exists
Instead I'm busy
I'm interested
I'm fascinated

I want to build things
And then break them

I want to be busy and beautiful
And brimming with
Ten thousand moving parts
I want to hurt
So that I can heal

And that's okay

As our pale blue presence
Dizzily dances
In the same single sunbeam
Restless over how alone
We really are

So sing at the finish line
Sing that sweet swan song
Because all shall become nothing
And in the nothingness
We are lost

The totality of time
With every moment spent
But that was then
And now it's gone
Im not sure where it went

Matches
Ashes
Acid on my casket
Buried with the hatchet
Of my fight with this life
I knew I could never hack it

Through the October night
Moonlight on metal
An evil companion to
My monster heart
And through the pain
I feel indifferent
I grapple with
The murdered words
I can never forget

So another
For the writer
Another bottle
All by myself
To soak my soul
And drench any
Dream or hope
Of a happy life
I might have
Had left

There are two kinds of people
Sharks and
sheep

Sharks are winners
They never look back
Because they have no necks

Necks are for sheep

It's hard not to
Completely fall for someone
Whom, without effort
Brings out the absolute
Best in you

The most beautiful thing
About young love
Is the truth
In their hearts
That it will last forever