Hastened glances, like frightened mice,
A kiss on the cheek, oh wouldn't that be nice?
I long for her touch, her sweet, sensitive touch,
A smile or maybe a "hey", or is that too much?
Chalk dust smothers the air, like a foreboding mist,
Echoing my thoughts, "does she even know I exist?",
I stare at her, and feel my heart turn to mush,
But deep down I know, this is just a classroom crush.

Here I stand upon this stop,
It's my ritual every day,
With all the other zombies,
Tired and looking grey,

The thought of public transport,
Irritates my brain,
As the bus arrives at my stop,
Packed like a commuter train,

The usual faces look away, 
Thinking please don't sit with me,
I park my **** upon their bags,
I pretend I didn't see,

The huffing and the puffing,
People late for work,
The woman sitting next to me,
Thinking...he's an effing ****,

Trying not to look at her,
Or the hairy man in front,
I look at the condensation,
As her elbow gives a shunt,

Getting up from my seat,
Needs balance and an awkward grin,
The bus brakes late upon this stop,
As she heels me in the shin,

My eyes welling up,
As I let out a massive ****,
The poor old lady gags,
Pulling up her winters scarf,

Embarrassed by my actions,
I pressed the button quick,
The odour travelled up my nose,
I think that i'll be sick

Fighting past the commuters,
Trying to get some air,
I knew it was too late....
Throwing up on some ladies hair,

So now I drive to work,
Past the Bus Stop that she waits,
We are married with two children,
Some people call it fate,

They said your name on the announcements this morning, but you weren't around to hear it.  
They spoke it just like anyone else would, but the tone they had was all wrong.  
The curves in the letters of your name -much like the curves of your hourglass figure- did not drip off the announcer's tongue like they should have.  
They were summoned from the front of their brain rather than the inkiest depths of their heart.  
They said your name flat, grim and thin like dull graphite.  
They read you prayer, but I'm not quite sure what it contained, because the moment they spoke your name on the announcements this morning, the floor rushed up and up and up until the crack of my head met the vanilla scrubbed tile.  
The room blurred and the room buzzed and the announcer continued to talk in his unsharpened pencil rasp, and I hoped and hoped and hoped some more that they played our song at your burial.

The cigarette burns bright
Between your perfect fingers
And I think that this night
Could never be any better

There's strawberry wine by your bed
And your hair falling down your back
And these thoughts racing through my head
As our bodies draw so, so close

Acting intimately
I feel very, very small
All these things you've shown me
I'm left struck with this awe

Your hand on my thigh, I'm shaking
I gently caress your smooth neck
My heart is violently quaking
As I draw you in close, touch lips
And fall into your kiss

Inhale.
The icy air cuts your throat
Like shards of a shattered past
The incisions sting you
Like the remembrance of her
The mere thought pains you
As they rush through
Like a train,
Leaving nothing behind.

Exhale.
Your breath leaves a cloud
You hope it begins to storm
Like the thundering emotions
Rumbling though your soul
Your breath leaves you empty
With nothing left
Just like she did.

Inhale.
You begin feeling sick
Her perfume is like poison
Its intoxicating scent
Seeps into your blood
Leaving you wanting more
That you will never receive .

Exhale.
You are seeing more than stars
The lights are spinning
You feel faint
Her look has you dazed
And you fall for her.
Hard.

Inhale.
As she walks past you
And out of your life forever
Then you are overcome with sadness
From the thought of what might've been.

Exhale.
For the last time.
As the rope tightens around your neck
And you kick the chair over
And fall again, for her
With a sickening snap
All because of her.

Pop a pill
Swallow it down
No more smiles
No more frowns
You can't feel
Through the fog
A drug induced haze
A medical cloud
A hollow version
Of who you used to be
Hallucinations
Become memories
But what price
Are we willing to pay
For society to label us
"Normal" one day?

Perhaps our story ended,
and we turned past the last page.
Nothing left for amendment,
the path before us laid.

This book met a conclusion.
What a fairy tale it was.
Maybe just an illusion,
the heart and mind plays tricks, it does.

Yet it all just seemed so true.
Who knew,
it would be just like a movie?
People dream to exist like this,
instead they live assuming.

I backtrack through the chapters,
nearly driven insane.
Forever chasing after,
a retelling of our claims

Perhaps someday I'll feel the same
evolve beyond these throes.
In days those passions were untamed,
where every ending goes.