Apply plastic to my face; I can't embrace
the way I look, the way I waste.
My God is dead, because I erased him.
I am trapped in a daydream nation.

Rip the cords out of celebri-babes
I wanna be the end of a film
I wanna fade...

...Fade in,
My God is your God and I declare you're full of sin
Hollywoodland is my mecca and it's all that I am
Give me a star on the walk instead of the sky
I don't wanna live, I just don't ever want to die

Hollywood, Holly would
give up her soul
if Oscars and movies could
make her whole.

My ear hurts.
That's nothing new.
You're beautiful,
and that's old news,
but I'd listen to it every day
with this bleeding mess on the side of my head.

I'm cramping.
Guess it's that time of the month.
But I love you every time of the month,
every day, every hour, minute, second
breath

Heartbeat.
It sounds in my veins and reminds me of you,
lingering under my skin and keeping me alive.

Beat.
Beat.


*Beat.

How many minutes does it take for the light from the Sun to travel to Earth?
Easy, 8 minutes and 20 seconds.
What is the distance from the Earth to the Moon?
Easy, 238,900 miles exactly.
What color are her eyes?
... Something gold. A bright golden brown. The flecks show up mostly when she is in the light. Her skin glows florescent, but her eyes deepen with curiosity and an unimaginable spark illuminates within her.
...So, Brown?
I guess you could say that.
How fast does light travel?
Easy, 186,282 miles per second. Hit me with something harder.
Okay, What is her best feature?
Some would say her body and some would say her mind. But I love the thing that will never deteriorate, Her soul. Her soul is the most beautiful part about her. It is what is within her as well as what shows outside on a sunny day. It is what picks the flowers outside of her house and kisses me gently. It is who recommends music and tells me that she loves me more than I love her (even though that is false, I love her so much more) and that gives me hope in the midst of fear.
Her soul is what touches me, not her fingers. Her soul is living and breathing, not only inside of her, but inside of me as well.
...Do you really love her?
Guess you could say she's a part of me now.
Yes?
*Yes

you talked to me in sonnets
or metaphysical poetry --
you said it all, in little words.
I was never any good at it,
unable to describe you in
only 14 lines, unable to
describe you even in novels.
writing about love is like
translating Shakespeare --
the subtleties are always
lost -- and in my many
inadequate attempts to
put you on paper, I've
never managed to make
you understand what
happens to my heart
each time you smile.

I didn't go to church today,
I trust the Lord to understand.
The surf was swirling blue and white,
The children swirling on the sand.
He knows, He knows how brief my stay,
How brief this spell of summer weather,
He knows when I am said and done
We'll have plenty of time together.