I know the rules.
We don't talk about the morning after,
And we never mention the night before.
I know he didn't love me,
And in a certain sense,
It doesn't matter.
I no longer ask to be loved.
I'm pretty sure love isn't real anyhow.
But it would just be nice
To not wake up alone
For once.

Every ounce of your beauty
I have touched,
For you display it
And give it away so freely.
But, darling, what I would do
To touch the darkest parts of you,
To finally know you complete,
To taste the stories that you hide away.
You say that there is nothing
But beauty and love and joy.
But, baby, I see it in your eyes,
The darkest parts of your nights
When you sit alone and cry
With no one but the moon watching.

The air is heavy
With smoke
And the sound of the bass.
We think we're the baddest thing
Since 1976 England.
But deep down
We all know the truth.
We're all just a bunch of nerds
Rescued by rock and roll
And hoping to get out.

The morning breeze
Eats away at my cigarette
Before my lips even touch it.
Looks like a storm is coming,
And God I hope one is--
It would be nice to know
That someone as significant
As the planet
Is feeling the same way I am.
The morning dew
Soaks from this porch step
Onto my jeans,
And I consider all the expectations
I never met.
My fingertips turn to icicles,
Despite a light being inches away,
As I stare at the stream
And wonder if Andy really did jump that night.
I think of saying goodbye,
Running away from marrying a stranger,
Hoping to be a cobweb in somebody's life,
Catching every little thing
That floats by.
But instead here I am,
Lost in time none the less,
After all the lies I told Adam,
And wondering if I could only see the ocean,
Would he choose to forgive me.

I hate that I should feel guilty
For being lonely.
As if my loneliness
Translates to me being needy,
When some girl much prettier than I
Reminds me
That there is always someone
Underneath my covers.
But with all this skin on skin,
Why do I feel so out of touch?
Where is the feeling of feeling
That I crave so much?
And why does the man sleeping next to me,
The one who just learned more about me
Than even I know,
Feel so much like a stranger?

Hold me so closely,
With your promises
To never let me go.
Squeeze me so tightly
And tell me about
Your wish to consume me whole.
Kiss my lips
So softly
And do not apologize.
Press replay tonite
And just as often
As you would like.
Stay inside this bed.
Just do not love me.
You do not want to love me.

I recall the first time
I heard my bones crackle
When I rolled out of bed.
It was the same morning
That I saw that wrinkle by my eyes--
It was thin and new.
Thin and new,
But defined.
It was definitely there.
I did not mind it all that much.
My bones crackled but did not ache,
And the wrinkle was,
In its own way,
Flattering.
If only I could be that young again.
For now,
As I roll out of bed,
The bones ache
And threaten to break,
And the reality of immortality sinks in.
Past the age of twenty-seven,
I never did grow old.
My mind and spirit stayed the same.
My dreams remained intact.
I had learned all I had to learn
About love,
About death.
And though I continue to learn little things
Each and every day,
By age twenty-seven,
I had learned all there was to learn
About life.
My mind has not aged since then.
I still wish to fly,
And to make people dance,
And to be the one to dance.
I want to climb a mountain,
Marry the spirit of the wilderness
With the young spirit of my soul.
Nothing has changed.
I feel as young as I ever did,
Only now,
I feel my body slowly giving up on me.
My heart still ready to soar,
But my body ready
For an eternal rest.