I wanted to love you,
But I never got the chance.
You played off my affections
As if what we had was happenstance.

We were never going to be amazing,
But we sure could've been good.
Amongst subtle touches and star-gazing
Lied the words I wished to say but never would.

And I've been told by friend and foe alike
That I can't blame myself for your reluctant heart.
Though, if I could just break this wretched cycle,
Maybe we could've avoided this from the start.

But it's what I do - I trip and stumble,
And all my strategically-placed walls begin to crumble,
As I fool myself into believing
That girls like me can end up with boys like you.

And as much as I hate to admit,
I know my soul is that of a poet,
So that loneliness will surely be my destiny -
Though I pray my tired heart may forego it.

But fate is a demanding thing,
And even the most minuscule chance at love
Will be dutifully executed in a timely manner,
While the cosmic audience nods in approval from above.

Behind the window where raindrops rest
there lies a world dying
under the red sky
a world where the half moon
still looks for its temporary sun,
a world where hope buries people alive
while silver birds are flying
to another sunrise.
behind the window where stars cry
lies my soul
still looking for you
under the dark clouds
of a room
with a dying light.

Somewhere buried deep beneath your family albums,
Mother’s Day cards, embroidered pillow cases,
Canadian coins and high school yearbooks
there is a  hidden picture of you and  me
under the  limbs of a flowering Catalpa
tree.  It only sees light on uncommon
days when you are alone.

i sold my soul for you
to buy you a little more
time to breathe
and you didn't even
use your last breath on me

i guess it was all just a waste
because you never saw me that way,
i should have known
all along that i just
wasn't good enough for you