It's 4am and I am hungry but ignoring it
I am failing but ignoring it
I have put my dreams into the back pocket of jeans that are a little too big for me now
because things have changed
(me especially)

It's 4am and I am not sure I care if I fail or succeed
what would make me a failure, anyway
and whose terms am I living on?

when i was a kid, i pretended i could
breathe underwater so that if i was
ever caught in a wave for too long
i wouldn't panic- but now my hands are
shaking and i can feel my lungs getting tight
and my ear drums are starting to pound, and
these ceilings are
crushing
me.

1)
i finally read that book you recommended. i heard your voice in every line
2)
i left the fossett running last night to cut the silence
3)
i still smell your shampoo on my pillow cases
4)
what's the name of that song we discovered on the radio two nights before you left? i need it right now
5)
acceptance is the act of investing in a space heater to keep me warm at night, when i know your legs could do the trick for free
6)
i saw your little cousin in target last week. i never realized how precisely your smiles match
7)
i left the cd you made me, in its case on the floor of my backseat. nick stepped on it and i felt an earth shattering emptiness, like someone died before i had the chance to say goodbye
8)
actually this all kind of feels like someone died before i had the chance to say goodbye
9)
tonight i caught up with some of your friends at starbucks & only thought of you once. does that mean i'm getting better?
10)
missing you occupies so much of my mind that i forget how to sleep most nights

It's 2 am
and I haven't slept yet
so I thought
why not write you a poem?
Is it evident
that the words are wheezing
and there is no current?
The words
are wheezing
alright.
Iron rusts
when there's oxygen and moisture
and my words rust
when there's no you.
Oh,
my words
are wheezing
alright.
I've been sleeping
at the edge
of my bed, all this time
because "missing you"
is a creature on its own,
I'm not saying it's a
symbiotic relationship
but "missing you" takes up
half of my bed,
half of my words.

We walk these city streets
Two instruments to the world
As I take your hand I feel
The poetry flow from your skin

Beautiful verses of life’s song
Pour into my veins
As I trace your vibrant palm
I could listen forever

I fall in love with the overture
Played by your divine symphony
Orchestrated to perfection
Within your fingertips

We walk these city streets
Two instruments to the world
The music in our soul
Emancipated by the lovers touch

but it's always been my worst of nights that I write my best
the nights that I want to cut myself and lick my blood off of your chest
the nights that my eyes suffer and sting because they don't get rest
nights I miss the sunset because I was looking east when I know it's west.

There was once a boy who almost drowned
inside his own self pity and doubt.
But if you could ever get him to smile,
he would sit in his car and whistle a while.
He whistled Coldplay, he whistled Muse,
he whistled notes only birds could use.
He whistled the sweetest, saddest songs,
that made you wish you could sing along.
There was a time that came one day
when I sent that whistling boy away.
He almost drowned, but then he was saved
by the only girl that made him cave.
So when he came back, there I met him,
there, in his car, with the lights all dim.
And there he played his Muse and Coldplay
And there he whistled until the end of his days.
It reminded me of how life should be,
a sweet and complicated melody.
He taught me to whistle, the best gift of all
a gift I can always quickly recall.
I realized then that we'd always be friends,
until he whistled no more at the end.
But for now, we'll sit and whistle a while,
I'll do my best to get him to smile.
I look forward to when I see him soon,
so he can whistle to me life's beautiful tune.