Sometimes I wonder as I look up at the sky
Am I just clueless or is the world just changing way too fast
leaving me behind
making it hard for me to catch up
sooner or later everything I once use to know
might not be gone but changed in way that will never be the same
as I am sure things can't just vanish into thin air but change into another form
if its a spirit maybe go into another realm
beauty never lasts forever as the world is slowly dying
dying just like you and I
I'll keep wondering as I look up at the sky
*wondering about infinity
its beauties begining
my beauties ending
our everlasting  
you and I and the world's after story

It was shallow water, rippling
a watery moon quivering
on the surface seen
It was night fire
burning water into steam
gray smoke screened
It was willful drowning
upon a lily bed of lies
parched a wilted garden
slowly withers, dies

Another night alone,
another empty bottle and
another ****** poem.
Another pack of cigarettes,
another finished bowl.
Another way to deal with it,
another line of blow.

Do not fall in love with a poet.
She will feed you galaxies
until you fall sick in her brown eyes.
Then, she'll steal the stars from your breaths,
pin them proudly to her chest,
and claim that she's the night.

And soon you'll miss blue skies,
and summer highlights in her curls.
And she'll ramble in her sleep,
say things she doesn't mean,
and write poems about
how she could never be the right girl.

But, when you think you've had enough,
her words will somehow pull you right back.
Because despite her moonlit dreams,
she's just what you need,
to fill up lonely blue lines
about all the things you lack.

As the moon grew full
so did the sorrow in her mind,
the night she picked up the knife
instead of the pen
For the drops on the floor were more poetically true of
her innerself than her open ended words on that paper
could ever be...