is it crazy
to be madly in love
with a city you've never been to?
or perhaps it's something
along the lines of fate.
i dream of life
on a grand scale,
wearing heels on cobblestone streets
and hailing taxies
without a care in the world.
i suppose i'll have to
get there first.

Lay it down for my daddy in the middle of February.
My head on his chest while he sleeps.
Hearing his sweet soul beat into my ear,
Chanting to me in a foreign language.
All the sugar and roses in the world could never be as sweet as my daddy.
I struck a chord in his heartstrings,
And he felt it real good.
I smiled, he laughed, I couldn't help myself.

I got him up to dance with me in the winter air,
But found myself on the verge of tears when the song neared its middle,
And couldn't figure out why.
But I cried, I cried, I cried.

Lay it down for my daddy in the middle of February,
He knows me so well,
My god, he knows me.
He kisses my forehead,
And forgives me for the poison I have slipped him in between my words,
I'm sorry.
I hug his waist and rest my head once again.
I hear his breaths, long and slow,
While he slips back into his dreams,
And hopes I can't hurt his tender heart until he wakes.

Lay it down for my daddy  in the middle of February,
And hope we make it to March.

To finish anything in entirety requires a full circle- and goodbye is a picky eater. Good is the pieces of pie fully enjoyed already- don't forget the fingertips good. The ones licked crisp and clean from the plasticware every time. While bye remains the uneaten slices spoiling silence in the kitchen. Crumbs too stubborn to move along, to move anywhere at all. Notice these slices never once greeted each other on a dinner plate- and there is no place for distance during dessert.

2. Goodbye is invisible ink scribbled too quickly for certainty. Proper sendoffs deserve the type of visibility that billboards form. So if you have the audacity to send seven letters my way disguised as our final embrace- I will unwrap your formality, like 5am Christmas morning, and pretend I'm on the naughty list. Hidden messages lack a sense of transparency that leaves only second guessing and farewells should need no crystal *****.
Goodbyes are as good as guesswork- and we are not fortune tellers.

3. Goodbye implies loss or rejection, but well wishes are meant for times
when loss is undeniably absent. Wishing wells bathe separation with good intentions- each copper coin anointed an underwater masterpiece.
While goodbye addresses detachment with partial reflections, splitting waves too strict for clarity. So all I see are the ripples of me spread too thin, the pieces of me scattered in every direction. Goodbye wishes no one well.

4. Goodbye is simply one word. Goodbye is not naturally destructive. Goodbye is no vocal cord villain.
Words are neither inherently good nor bad because we ascribe their significance, but evidence suggests a one word farewell serves innocent ears unjust death sentences.

5. The moment you allow I love you to skydive from your tongue, the word goodbye steals the parachutes mid-launch causing fatal free fall to artificial grass your hands never actually planted. This land is lunar rock rare- desolate when day breaks.
Goodbye is not fertilizer for greener pastures- rather an open invitation for wildfire to reduce the cosmos to ashes.

6. Endings are inevitable and sometimes quite necessary. And I'm not suggesting we prolong foregone conclusions. But our parting words need not necessarily be regrettable. Goodbyes are often stressed in tragic spectacles only designed for Broadway stages and sometimes all that's needed
is a genuine platform to stand on to say something like-- I'll miss you or I'm not ready for this or I can't do this anymore.


7. Goodbye is not a last resort.
Last resorts lead to final destinations you never come home from and you were never home, you were never home for me, you were always goodbye. Goodbye was your one way ticket to paradise, the kingdom your words worshiped and call me a traitor if you must, but the paradox you fundamentally found comfort in is tyranny trapped in one breath.
And that's never been comforting enough for me to believe in, never been real enough for me to hold.
Goodbye is sweet sorrow- one hollow word that makes your smile hurt.
It's solid rain on sunny days, stolen hearts on lay away. It's two syllables that were forced to hold hands that were never ever friends to begin with.
Goodbye is an oxymoron- and it will never justify your warm hello.

I'll always wait for the glasses to spill before I take them out.
I'll always empty my closets and let everything sleep on the bed.
I'll sit on the edge and have a staring contest with the mirror.
I'll always surrender.
The fan is buzzing.
There's a web in every corner.
Furniture is the devil's work.
I will always fall in love with walls and floors.
I hear the highways and I don't want to be here.
I'll always be homesick but only houses exist.
Homes are a myth.

The mahogany table-top you smashed
Had been the broad plank top
Of my mother's heirloom sideboard-
Mapped with the scars of my whole life.

That came under the hammer.
That high stool you swung that day
Demented by my being
Twenty minutes late for baby-minding.

'Marvellous!' I shouted, 'Go on,
Smash it into kindling.
That's the stuff you're keeping out of your poems!'
And later, considered and calmer,

'Get that shoulder under your stanzas
And we'll be away.' Deep in the cave of your ear
The goblin snapped his fingers.
So what had I given him?

The ****** end of the skein
That unravelled your marriage,
Left your children echoing
Like tunnels in a labyrinth.

Left your mother a dead-end,
Brought you to the horned, bellowing
Grave of your risen father
And your own corpse in it.

I am not me anymore
Lost myself through a black door
My soul and body now separate
Put them together, I am desperate

We two are poles apart
Day by day the life depart
I cry, day and night
To make everything right

Only the desolate heart, beating hard
Inner child has long being scarred
A dying repertoire of beautiful thoughts
Words are fighting to end the wars

The only thing that I see in me
A falling soldier in a ****** sea
The last breaths that I am taking now
The wounds I got, I wonder how

Where is the hope, where is the sign
Black smoke over the fallen reign
If it gets too painful to swallow
I pray, I die now in this rotten hallow

I am ready to see the other side
Not scared of what may preside
The hell I have seen in my blood
Drowned in my own tear’s flood

The scars will always reminds me
Many deaths through it would be
Hell and heaven both are here
I am the one who has to bear…