tell me i was wrong.
tell me the people who've given up on me
decided i was too much effort
or a mistake;
people who promised me things
that now
seem light years away.

tell me i was wrong;
you don't know the years that followed
and you don't know the things that happened,
because you left.

tell me i was wrong.
i don't care.
but tell me something;
don't just leave it empty.
you owe me more than that.

i dont think you know how much i lost for you.
through halls and streets and night beats,
through wireless connections and the realization
of pencil in a high school year book.

the words won't come.
i see the pictures, hear the conversations;
think of first semester exams and games we played
and the promises you made me break

manipulation;
you and the air and the mattress we shared
witches in the background as i throw up for you again.

for autumn's leaves have fallen much too soon
and i, without my eyes to see the clear
brilliance of the sun, the stars, and moon
can still make out what the heavens brought near

the warmth of heaven's gift i feel fornenst
i hear the sound true emotion does bring
my heart, it breaks through its final defense
and on the ice first does this new love sing

what spell's been wrought to bring me to my knees?
what magic has your presence on me cast
to turn me from my abhorrence of he
to lover's gaze which alienates the past

And sooner would I cast myself to flame
Then dare confess when you won't feel the same.

i found him
fumbling through childhood memories and sawdust
i saw him and his brothers
perched like crows on the wires
theres nothing about you on there
fitting.
why would you want someone to know who you were?
who were you, really
the boy who prayed on others or the man in the truck
or no one at all?

the bile in my throat turns to dust
as i die at the memory
of being in your
arms once
again.

my stomach tightens with your grip on my wrists
thousands of years but i still remember it.

i dont know when that gate was put up
but i remember when we were small enough to slide through that doorway
on our hands and knees
under blankets, pretending that couldnt see
my blanket was thrown out without choice
but you still keep yours close.

i dont remember how the floor felt when it was clean,
or what exactly the space behind the couch looked like without the pool table's frame and no christmas tree
logic tells me
that table didnt always block the fireplace,
but i dont remember it any other way.

we used to slide down those stairs on our *****
but that wide step in the corner was where i liked to sit
and that window by my door, where i learned
we can see rain.

why weren't we allowed in the back yard?
we didn't we want to go into the back yard?

so many nights spent sleeping on that couch
i know it couldn't have been my entire childhood but when did i
ever
sleep in that bed?

they trimmed back the hedges and painted our house.
everything is clean and respectable
and detestable.

we were on the roof once, or was that a dream?
high as the sun in the sky, but it was night and the moon
in your eyes when you smiled
we couldn't name a single one of those **** constellations,
then or now
but i remember your laugh like i heard it not two minutes ago.
i never know when i'll see you again.
i wonder if it's okay with you?