Rain's pouring
Sun's rising
A coffee he's brewing,
greets like a kiss and soft good morning

John Mayer's playing
Dancing, twirling with his shirt I'm wearing
Now the pancake I'm smelling,
Is the fragrance I've been craving

Side by side as we sit,
Sudden laughs, that night was lit
Not to forget how we kissed an armpit
and those naughty dares, so hard to omit

Memories from last night...
Endless shots, little fights
Photo snaps and blurred out sights
Surely one for the book worthy to write.

I like pens that bleed
Ink that smears
Girls with scars
Broken parts
***** clothes
Stained sheets
The hint of blood
The taste of lust
The smells of love
Nights through morning
Mornings to night
Suns that sleep
Moons that dream
And all the pretty
You hide underneath
Those pretty
Pretty
Pretty things

To the North, a broken dream remembers,
To the South, lost memories,
To the East, what will never be,
To the west, a rain of embers.

To the North, fallen angels crying
To the South, tears of sorrows,
To the east, not looking for tomorrow,
To the West, hopes are dying.

Maybe the direction, or the pain,
Might trace the place
Of my tears of rain;

A spinning compass eats me inside,
Looking for myself,
Nowhere left to hide.