The wall clock refuses to play with me
and I drift upward
as a neighbor and his dogs growl
about the silly and the ******
while the ceiling fan
hums,
gentle and
jazz,
without a cage,
without a key.

the dream
sometimes I wonder if this is all just a dream
when no one can here my silenced screams
this dream I live only I see
sometimes I wonder if it's anyone but me
curiousity gets you places
but in this dream it only goes so far
and then I wonder if I'll be able to indure another day
these people tell me many things
like how to feel a different way
about this dream
in which I live
will someone help me
something's got to give

As you whisper my name,
The song that I hear echoes throughout my soul and I realise,
Realise that without you I would be lost.
The darkness would finally take me.
Without even knowing,
You stole every piece of my heart,
Twisted and shaped it around your own.

I don't believe in perfection or something being perfectly flawed.
And I guess you could say that it means that I don't believe in happiness,
mostly the kind that comes from loving someone else.
And I guess I could tell you I don't believe in things I've never experienced.
But then I could tell you how I had left a half eaten English muffin covered in ketchup on my counter for weeks because reminded me of her,
the eccentricities that I didn't want to forget, that she wouldn't let me keep.
Or maybe how I didn't clean for weeks because the Newports strewn among the furniture also reminded me of the half dazed smile she would give me before we kissed.
And I don't believe love is quite right to describe what I felt.
I think it was much more, it was an instant connection.
She was so complicated and I'm nothing but simple.
And I feel like that might be a lie.
But I could tell you I was being honest and in time I was telling the truth.
I don't believe I was in love with her,
and I guess that means you could say that I don't believe in her,
mostly that she could have ever been mine.
Mostly, because she wasn't.

Trapped inside of something that you built to help yourself. Something so good that soon goes so bad. Like a sweet candy that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. The ones we thought we loved, we grew to hate. The ones who we went to became the ones to avoid. In this strange place called the 'real world' there's no telling what could happen next.
And suddenly, I want to go back. Back to the days of juice boxes, and building blocks. Back to when the biggest challenge was coloring in the lines.
But it's a vicious cycle.
All we wanted then was to grow up, and now all I want is to go back.
But we can't.