When you learn how to drive,
take me somewhere,
somewhere far from over the rainbow
where there's only two clouds in the sky
and where the grass isn't greener on the other side.

Take me where the trees are slanted,
almost blown away,
where the road splits in two
so you can go left
and i can go right
and when we reach the mountain
(the one that's not quite golden)
we will climb to the top and
jump back into that old blue car
you call a
"man's truck"
and you'll drive me back home
away from the two clouds
and the not fully deceased trees
and the forked dirt road
but to the city with the fake, straight trees
and the grey clouds
and the silver skyscrapers
you, in your "man's truck"
and me, in my "home"
both of us ignoring the fact that
your car is really just a blue piece of crap
and that my home is really just a golden mountain far from any rainbows.

i hate the term
"hopeless romantic"
and i hate the way
it's the thing to blame
when you decide to be vulnerable
and i hate that you're calling
yourself hopeless
no one is hopeless
let alone some one who still feels the romance
burning in them
you are not a hopeless romantic
you are a person
who feels
loves
and breaks
you are a person who believes
that everyone feels
loves
and breaks
and you are a person who can't accept that fact
that i do not
feel
love
or break
and if anyone's hopeless i can promise you
its not the boy with the green eyes
who finds love in anything that breathes and smiles

remember the days
(and some nights)
when we'd lie down
and just breathe
nothing more
nothing less
and every now and then
i'd trace little infinity signs
on your chest with the very tip
of my finger
and you'd be lost in the stars
while i was simply lost in the horizontal  figure eight on your chest
that was invisible to everyone else but myself

and that was what we were.

a pair of dreamers.

i've heard that you should never be with some one
too similar to you
and you see
that's what they all said we were
the same
but dear
we weren't
you were lost in
in the clouds, the sky, the stars
the unknown
while i was lost in you, your eyes, the invisible infinity sighs on your torso
the dream that had come true

and that's what you were.

a dream come true.

so please ignore the cliches
i was never one to be too original
but dont ignore what we were
just a pair of dreamers
similar in the fact that we had dreams
but distinctly different in the fact that while you dreamt about
fantasies and wishes
i dreamt  about you, the reality.

i think the thing i love most about you
is how you
write
you do it randomly
passionately
with a stern face and a blue pen
your hand writing is raw
inconsistent
relatively illegible
and beautiful
your words are real
thoughtful
worth reading
and in the end
when you run out of space
(i know you never run
out of ideas)
or when your hand cramps
you turn the page over
flex your fingers
and write messy "n's"
and crooked "y's"
untill you're interrupted
by that stupid boy who only loves
you for length
not content
(and excuse this ink
i know its
nothing
like your
sweet
blue
somethings).

something's wrong
in my chest
it aches
for what?
i'm not sure
(actually i am sure
but i hear that when you first think you're in love
you have to go through a denial phase)

one day you will loose me
to things you can't and won't
be able to understand

you'll lose me to the ocean
the moon
the constellations
to the boy next door.

and you'll tell your self
to never forget me
but incase you never noticed
I'm a rather forgettable person

i was looking for you
but found a girl named Cacy instead
except im not entirely sure how she spelt it
maybe Kasey?  Casey?  Kacie?
She told me she wanted to start going by Cass (Kass?)
though
i told her that i knew a girl named Cass
and even though it was a lie
she couldnt tell
or maybe she could
but either way she said that the name
"Cass"
was a "fuckable" name,
a name that was bound to
"get some"
and i had nodded with that sheepish grin
you hate
and started to shake
with that embarassing nervousness
that annoys you
and she held my hand and lit a cigarette
she told me that she hated smokers
but that it "blurs the edges"
i told her that i was all edges
she asked why
and so i told her about you
and how i was looking
but how i had found her
and how i very much preferred to have found her instead
she gave me a cigarette
and i coughed because you know i have asthma
i said thanks and called her Cass
and she had smiled because i think she was starting to grow
quite fond of the sound of the name
i coughed out my name
and she told me about how Peter Pan was "hot" and how wendy was the
biggest "****" ever
we laughed
and we smoked
we talked
and we shivered
we went inside
and we slept
and i didnt cheat
even though Cass was quite fuckable
i slept
and dreamt of her rather than you
and woke up much happier than i have ever been.

i imagine
it's morning
that wonderful time
where you aren't really awake
but you know you aren't dreaming anymore
where everything's a bit blurred
and only the important things are
impeccably clear

i imagine
that on this morning
the blinds are closed or open
i can't tell
everything's a haze
the cat's probably asleep by our feet
the sheets might be orange
they might be red
but your eyes
they're crystal clear
that wonderful light green
so different from the seas of brown i'm used to
then that little smirk
that's always on your face
those lips
those collar bones

i imagine
that in this moment
the little infinity signs
i've traced a thousand times
are real
tattooed onto your chest
the smirk is only a smile
for me
those eyes are only crystal clear
because they're staring right into my eyes
and those lips are mine for the taking

i imagine
that this morning
is real
that is lasts forever
that it will happen one day
it's times like these
that i imagine
you're mine
all the ******* time.

she used to have a lot of them
a bag packed and ready
money stored
and the lock broken on her window
but that was then
all she has is a little china box now
that can barely fit anything bigger than crumbs
and you didnt notice it at first
you saw it the second time you came over though
you called it pretty
and she laughed because you didnt know
and then you found out
you opened it
and you left
because you didnt need an explanation
and you didnt need a wreck like her
so now
she has them
the 7 tiny pills
in the little china box
you didnt let her explain
not that she needs to
but she wants to
she wants to let you know that she's better now
better because she met someone
better because she loves someone
and better because she has her escape route.

she told him to be careful
with words like that
he's bound to steal
no break
a few hearts

she told him every stanza
brings a new girl with star crossed eyes
and an easily won heart
and each period ending his new poem
equals a box on his porch
with some poor girl's beating heart
bleeding through
staining the door mat

and each stained door mat
is just some girl's
lost hopes
and swooning mind

and so she warned him to be careful
for words mean so much
more to those with light hearts
and she knew that his words were nothing to him
but patterns of the keyboard
with a shift key
some punctuation thrown in.

i
im sorry you're reading this
i really am

ii
so this is where the story begins
right?
on new year's eve
with the girl you thought no one wanted
[five...]
exchanging nervous glances
[four...]
stumbling across the room
[three...]
slurred introductions
[two...]
hopeful smiles
[one!]
a drunken kiss she'll never remember
[happy new years!]

iii
so this is where the pity kicks in
right?
on Valentine's day
alone, drinking before 5
[roses are red...]
drunken epiphanies
[violets are blue...]
2 stages of realizing you're alone
[you never wrote me back...]
hole in the wall, hurt hand
[i still love you...]
soaked pillow, dreams that make it hurt when you wake up.

i could taste it on your
lips as you promised me that
i was the only one
i could feel it on your
skin
the thick film of dirt she left behind
i could smell her perfume on your
wrinkled shirt with the red lipstick stain
on your collar
but what I could not tell was why

im trying so hard to
remember what
it
feels like
to still be in love

im trying so hard to
remember the
times
when you
smiled and laughed

and im trying much too hard
to forget the times you
cried and i did not
comfort you
or care to comfort you
or the times when you said
"i love you"
and i replied with an
indifferent
"i know"

but most of all
im trying oh so hard to
fall back in love with you

i dont believe in love at first sight
well, atleast im trying not to
but right now
i think i've discovered something new
i think this is like at first sight

i want to know way too much about you
i want to hear you talk
see your art
taste the air you breathe

i think i've fallen hopelessly in like.

there are four doors in this house
last time i checked;
one for me
one for your chef aspirations
one for your security
and one for your privacy
there are five windows
last time i checked
one for me
one for rainy days
one for sunny days
one for fresh air
and one for you to sneak out of
there are three keys to this house
last time i checked, of course
one for me
one for you
and one for the girl next door
there are three words you've never said
if i can remember correctly
one for you
one for emotion
one for me

there are four doors in my house
i just checked
one is for me
one is for the kitchen
one is the front door
and one is locked.

you always liked your privacy.

I.* *Siren

Maiden of the sea
mysterious as can be
dipping beneath the waves
never to be seen
dragging poor sailors
down below their graves

Temptress of the ocean
devoid of emotion
player of a twisted game
sign of good or bad omen
yet every story ever told
ending the same

Sweet Sailor of the blue
I wish I couldve warned you
watch out for the maids
and try not to lose
your head or your heart
she’s only playing charades

this isnt about love i swear it isnt
i swear im not thinking of red hearts
and pink kisses
because this is not about me,
or you,
or us.
this is about the girl i saw yesterday
she was quite pretty
you wouldve liked her
but then again you liked every girl but me
she was wearing your favorite color
dark green
and she had blonde hair
and those pretty blue eyes
you can't stop rambling about
and she had a smile that no one
deserved to see
and a laugh
that no one deserved to hear
she was miss perfect
the girl no one deserved but you
you deserve her
you deserve more
you deserve a miss perfect
a girl with pretty eyes you can write about
and pretty smiles you can take pictures of
you deserve her
and i deserve to be left alone
for quite a period of time
while i dye my hair
get colored contacts
whiten my teeth
and practice fake smiling all over again.

One day
i’ll stop stealing plastic diamond rings
that are too big
i’ll stop dreaming of pink sailboats
that sail in purple seas
i’ll stop thinking in third person
that confuses me
i’ll stop drinking v8
that’s “good” for me?
i’ll stop eating pumpkin pie
that’s “bad” for me?
i’ll stop dying my hair
those ugly colors
i’ll stop pronouncing Hallie’s name wrong
that makes her mad
i’ll stop writing  letters
that always end up unanswered
i’ll stop writing text posts
that no one will read
One day i’ll stop breathing
i’ll stop eating
i’ll stop drinking
i’ll stop waking up
One day i’ll go to sleep
and never see your face again.

one day you will loose me
to things you can't and won't
be able to understand

you'll lose me to the ocean
the moon
the constellations
to the boy next door.

and you'll tell your self
to never forget me
but in case you ever noticed
i'm a rather forgettable person

if you only knew how much i really looked at you
even when you turn your head away
my eyes are always there to stay

and i swear i wasn't at your house last night
and i swear i didn't mean to give you such a fright
you see i thought you were sleeping,
maybe even dreaming of me
but then i saw those pearly blues
when you woke up confused
and i knew it could never be

cause baby we're all just statues
stuck in a time and place
baby we're all just statues
waitin for your pretty face
one day i'll take my first step
come a little closer
maybe kiss your neck
but until that day comes rollin by
i guess i'll just be the statue guy

and i saw you yesterday once again
with that stupid guy you call boyfriend
and he kissed those lips so wrong
the lips i've craved for so long
and i swear i wasn't at his house last night
and i swear i only meant to give him a fright
you see i thought he was sleeping, dreaming of you
but then i saw those dull brown eyes
when he woke up surprised
and i knew he was no good
for you.

cause maybe im just a statue
but now he's one too
and maybe im just a statue
who's fallen in love with you

the day (i) the earth burned down to the core
no one expected to be woken up to fire
no one expected that yesterday was the day
for goodbyes and i love you's

the day (the earth) i burned down the core
no one cared to be woken up
no one cared that yesterday i was here
and now i'm gone

the day we burned down to the core
was the day i found a pack of matches
in the gutter on an empty street
the day we burned down to the core
was the day i dropped that lit match
and did nothing but watch it burn.

i wonder what its like to be your breath
to be there with you
to feel the tickle and tease of your lips
every time
you exhale

i wonder what its like to be your finger tips
to trace little invisible insignias on some girl's soft skin
to feel the strong clack of the keys as you turn
thoughts into type

i wonder what its like to be with you
while you sleep
to see your eyes flutter as you dream
to feel the twitch of your muscles
to hear the soft sighs of slumber
to be the first thing you see when you wake up
maybe all i want to be is the first person to see
those ******* green eyes open
as you realize your dream has ended
and the day has begun
and there's  that girl in your bed again

sorry that im never that girl
sorry that im not your every breath
or the very tips of your fingers
or even the thing you wake up to

but most of all im sorry that you'll never understand
all of which i am saying or feeling

and I'm trying so hard
here at too-early am
to remember your lips
and the curve of each defined cheek bone
I'm trying to remember
why i ever lost those green eyes
and that smirk
and I'm trying to be logical
ad I'm trying to stay together
but frankly
I'm also trying so hard to forget you as well.
just know that id be more than glad
to become dust and bones with you

the best sound
as i like to believe
is the sound of creation
it can vary so much
as from the cry of a newborn child
to the clatter of keys on a typewriter
to the strum a guitar string

however out of all the sounds i've ever heard
i think the one i've grown to enjoy the most
is the sound of your sigh

which under different circumstances might
imply that you're sad
or something else of the negative
but yet I know you're not sad when you do it

it's only something natural
just a part from breathing
it's you
and your quirks
and your words
and your creations

the sigh as you wait for more inspiration
to move your fingers across the keys
the sigh as you realize how content
the moment you're experiencing is
the sigh as you glide your scarred fingers across my face
the sigh that can mean so much
and yet so little that it always has me wondering just exactly what it means

it's you and your **** sighs
that keep my mind moving
it's you and your **** sighs
that let me know that every time im with you
i'm creating something very good
and very new.

I
We are made of wood, we
rot from the inside out,
for men of STONE went extinct years ago.
We are the trees
our a  r  m  s and    l
                                 e
                                 g
                                 s
                                     are branches
Our fingers
twigs and leaves
our hearts easily set     a         l            z
                                              b   ­       a           e         by emotions carved on
our trunks
We burn for one another
like a forest fire,
but if we all fall to the flame
we will soon be men of  a  s   h    e     s ....

II
Where are the golden halos?
the jeweled crowns of the gods?
have they tumbled from the h e a v e n s
down below the sea
pass hell's gate
and into your hands?

They're looking for them,
they'll find you.
But not until April,
because Persephone will be back by then,
and hell will be less tense.
Until then, guard them.
You know the demons come out at night,
ready to bargin,
but dont make the deal.
Wait for April.
Wait for the flowers to bloom,
and the rain to fall,
before you return the crowns.

III
They came on horses
in gold and red.
My father and his friends stared at them
in the way only arrogant American men can.
They trotted on by with their horses
that wore blindfolds
and gold horseshoes.  
They did not say a word.
They did not look at anyone.
They
          did
                  nothing
            ­                     wrong.
My father sleeps with the blindfold on at night
and carries one of the horseshoes in his pocket.
I haven't seen the gold and red horse riders since they came
that one day
with no words to say
                                      and no eyes to be met
                                                             ­                  on their blinded stallions.
My father says we're not allowed to talk about them.
He doesn't let me wear red and gold anymore.