I find that you and me are exponentially and utterly compatible.

Kindergarden, best friends since then, isn't it funny how things work out?

Who would have known, there is red and there is blue, together making your favorite color.

New humans come, and they may go, you still are one of my favorites.

Reckless and stupid

Funny and loud

very
very
immature
I'd like you thank you, I'm very much glad that I found you...
Lets dance until dawn, we can pretend there's an audience below the stage
You know too much, you laugh to loud, and I love every minute of it
Now lets go make some enemies and roll around laughing on the ground
So thank you, thank you, for every bit.

The starting kiss tasted sour,
I tried to spit you out.
To no avail, I struggled here.

And you whispered before I could shout:
nobody cares, nobody hears, you will always be alone

PUSH me to the floor and beat away my hope.

The irony is clear.

Crystal, crystal, on the floor, a million tiny tears.

Diamond blade, unbreakable, cutting my consciousness.

you took me prisoner, my dear, without even locking the latch.

PUSH me into the corner, now, drill away my naivety.

I keep waiting, waiting, my patience drawing closed.

Why won't Karma eat you now?

He ate me a long time ago.

The children of the Ghetto
Always in the news
They living in the ghetto
But didn't get to choose
Now they got nothing to lose
And everything to prove
So many people look down
On the children in the ghetto
But if only they knew
The trouble they go threw
But they living their cozy little life
In a suburban town where the crimes are few
But see the children of the ghetto
Didn't get to choose
The children of the ghetto
have nothing to lose
Born at the bottom
So it's easy to see why they feel defeat
Some didn't get to eat
The only escape they have is sleep
The children of the ghetto
Always in the news
Where they only portrayed negatively
So they got everything to prove
Because one can only wonder how the world could be so cruel
The children of the ghetto have creativity
Because in their minds they turned the ghetto into a castle
The children of the ghetto have to be strong
So they are ready for battle
The children of the ghetto
Didn't get to choose
They know what defeat feels like
But they don't like to lose
The children of the ghetto
Don't want your pity
No...
They just going to take over your city
The ones that are always in the news
That has nothing to lose
And everything to prove
They going to take over your city
You can only hold people in oppression for so long
But no matter how much you hold them down
They'll rise up
So rise up children of the Ghetto
Because you have everything to prove...

i've always admired water,
its tendency to take the
path of least resistance,
gently eroding without
being openly abrasive.
and i've always admired
you, though our definition
of always seems to differ
and the [drip-drop] of
(water-clocks) has long
since gone out of style.

have you ever felt electric?
charged; ionic, or maybe
something not so particular;
that's the feeling of another
connection being made,
threads of elastic static
woven together on some
great unknown loom
somewhere -- or maybe
just by our own weary
fingers.
              i digress, in that;
this isn't really about any
water, or electricity, or
some cosmic idea of how
we become connected, bound,
souls sewn with steel stitches.
i guess it's really just about
this one thought stuck
bouncing around like
a plectrum in a sound
[hole].
           /i could carry your
heart, like other writers/
and you're the only one
who would appreciate it./