The storm trooper costume was somewhat of a joke between us friends. When we were 20, we dreamed of buying houses full of useless merch that fans buy out of love for something, but really just feeds the capitalist machine. Those friends are gone now and so are those dreams. The apartment is bare and empty, save for rusty heater that groans like an old drunkard, the hard bed in the corner next to the window that lets in the cold winter air and the single chipped wood table that wobbles on its uneven legs. There isn't even a lighter for the cigarettes.

I wonder how much Darth Vader paid his storm troopers? I wonder what it would be like to be in that suit, firing guns at Jedi Knights but not really hitting anything. I wonder what it will be like to be on spaceships travelling between galaxies and different points of the universe at light speed, setting eyes on new planets and whole new species that may range from space worms to aliens with higher intelligence.

Then again, there was that possibility that I could die. I was part of an intergalactic army after all. I'd be no match for a Jedi and i'd probably have no idea how to work my own weaponry. You probably can't smoke or drink, either-- lest you wish to incur the wrath of Darth Vader but... despite all that, I'd still take it over all of this grimey ****.

After all, anywhere was better than here.

No harm will come to you under your covers at night.
Grab Mr. Teddy and turn out the light
Know mummy and daddy are right outside your door,
No monsters are coming to hurt you anymore
Yet under the blanket on top of the bed,
you closet is empty but full is your head.
Under the covers in the covers of night
you don't have the courage, you've run out of light
That monster shares your blanket, darling it's true
It's not under your bed now the monster is you.

Marry me in a far-off field dotted with small flowers, under the twinkling stars of night's magical darkness
Wear that cute white dress with the hem cut up short, the one where I can't resist you
Be a feast for heart in your angelic beauty, the shy smile and the happiness in your eyes
Darling, Darling! Please, please be mine?

There will be small pretty cakes for the guests, our honored neighbors
Just you, just me, and a few other people who are barefoot and laughing.
And Oh I, my dear, will have eyes only for you and only your forever now
I don't like cake, but I'll crave your lips, the sweetness there

So loving, so tender. My very best friend, my super duper ***** naughty lover.
Let's have a quickie in the bushes! Slip away to have a **** that will never be enough
No, I cannot wait and will not wait. In front of guests and kind friends
I'll make love to you on that very spot.

Mary me, you say.
Yes, I answer
I'm only kidding, you laugh
But you are my happy ever after.

When in love,
take the precious time to draft out dreams on soft sand or temperamental snow.
This verifies their possibility,
Gives color to their cold cheeks and gives them new life.

When in love,
Find someone who will takes these plans and help you set them in stone
What were only foolish dreams then
Become your reality, now

I pains me to see that she no longer belongs to me.

I hate the way he makes her giggle,
The cute, reserved one when she's thinking more of
how easily he could make her laugh than the whole point of the joke.
I used to do that.

I hate the way she leans on his arm and holds his hand tight
He was Atlas and she, his world.
He held her up while keeping her dreamy head grounded.
I used to do that.

The way she longs and calls for him when he's away (even for only a minute)
Kills me because I know the feeling well.
Proximity calms the turbulent storms. I know because
I used to do that.

She's so needy of him, like he was air, water-- her fire.
I hate it because she has her own supernova under her skin
And I hate it because I remember
I used to do that.

God I swear I could **** them both. Or him, maybe just him.
Stop touching her. Stop kissing her. Stop stroking her hair.
True love lies in the minutia-- the things no one dares to take a second look at.
I used to do that.

I wonder what it would be like to rid the world of digital chat lines.
I think it's time we deleted IM.
Yes, I admit it's convenient and fast and easy and cheap but
It pays a much higher price.
Think about a life with no edited conversatios
In real life, you said what you could without having to think about it.
Even if it was embarrassing.
Even if it was stupid.
Hell, even if it was a little creepy.
I think it's cute when people stumble and trip over things they've said.
Have you seen a boy blush when he accidentally blurts out her likes you?
Its the best thing... the imperfection of people.
There will be no backspace, no second shot
No record for the NSA to use for future blackmail.
Won't you be more careful of the words you say then?
Won;t you be more kind?
Won't you choose words more carefully?
Won't you shed your veils and shine?