Promise me
When my hands begin to tremble
You’ll place your hand in mine
When my eyes become hollow
You’ll gaze into them
When I’m at a loss for words
You’ll kiss me so the silence
Can speak for the both of us.

I saw you at the bus stop,
hair flowing with the wind.
sounding like a beautiful song,
a queen without her king.

I said Hello, & you said Hi,
I knew it was love at very first sight.
We just stared into each other's eyes,
& we didn't wanna ever say goodbye.

I fell for you when you laughed at my stupid jokes, this became more than just a little hope. I missed you when we didn't talk on the phone, I knew you were perfect, you had a beautiful soul.

But now you got me writing all these silly little poems,
& in thought of you just forever hoping,
that you miss me too the way that I do u,
because it seems the words "I love you" are no longer true.

Maybe I'll call you, Maybe I won't,
this can't be real, it's just a dream.
It's nothing but a fantasy, Love isn't that easy or what it seems.

What happened to everything I grew to love about you? Your voice used to make my heart drop.. Now I'm starting to regret ever  saying hello to you that day at
the Bus stop..

I'm in love with a girl who washes her hair in her bathroom sink every morning.
Truth be told,
She washes it in the kitchen,
But I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Let's backtrack for a minute.
You see she has a shower right behind her
But she hasn't used it since the day the water ran red.
She tells me she likes the way dirt looks under her fingernails,
The way people on the street wonder if she's lazy
Or just excavated a body.
But what's the difference right?
Either way you find yourself in a hole.
I wait for her in the kitchen every morning.
Hand her her coffee.
Watch her stare into the yard as she sips.
I mention the birds
and she sighs something about the night she had to chase away the neighbors cat.
How she wishes her father would stop feeding them.
But you see,
I've heard this story a hundred times.
And though the ending's always different,
Nothing really changes.
Her dad keeps feeding the birds,
And her uncle keeps dying.
Sometimes it's an accident,
sometimes it's a disease.
Either way he ends up in a hole
And her dad only comes home when the birds get hungry.
I picture her sitting cross legged on her grass,
Her eyes envying the way it always shines green,
And I get lost in thoughts of how I'd like to make her my emerald.
But you see she's always wanted to be a diamond,
And there's just not enough warmth in my soul,
Or pressure in my hips
To give her that.
You see she washes her hair in the kitchen sink everyday
Because her best friend killed himself when she was eleven
And let the blood run down the drain.
She dyes her hair the color of a crime scene,
But forgets the caution tape.
She says she hates the mirror in her bathroom and the way the lighting makes her look,
But I've never once seen her bother to open the window.
You see I never minded though
Because the longer she stayed in the dark,
The longer I got to pretend to be her sunshine.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

That dark boy in the back of the class
Always drawing his feelings away
But over time his sharp pencil dulled,
He didn't feel the strength to draw anymore
So his drawings got sadder, darker
He felt the pencil was worthless eventually,
And threw his pencil away.
Though this story may be true,
**What if I told you, the pencil was himself too?