Why do I even bother listening to the music.
Why do I even bother finding the words.
Why should I ever try, given that everything I do ends in failure.
I will never be him. I will never be like him.
And I cannot be him for you.
I know that I am not passionate,
I am not exciting,
I am in fact very plain.
And it doesn't matter that being plain would mean stability.
It doesn't matter that all he leaves in his wake are ashes.
Why does it ever matter, if all the flowers I have ever planted are fated to die.
Tell me, give me a reason why I should care.
I am mired in my mediocrity, stuck with myself.
I used to think I was lost somehow,
That no,
No there is a place for me out there.
I take that back, I thought there must be a place for me.
Well I guess that I was wrong.
Everyone keeps telling me what I deserve,
But I can't help but think that they are lying.
So I am left to my aches and my longings.
Left to watch my garden never grow.

I feel it beginning again
Like some sort of torch being lit for the first time
In a long time
Like that song you used to love, rediscovered
I found blue eyes again,
And with them I found that sort of hope
That invades your mind
I keep finding you in the corners,
That sort of beauty that too often takes
A lifetime of breaths to explain
You are taking root in my heart,
And I am scared again.
Because I am asking you to be the light
That hits my clear prism
To create something more incredible than
Either of us could have achieved on our own

You are only as beautiful
As the scent of your soul;
And gasoline can't seem to light any fire
But your own.
Wrapped up in twine tighter then your grip,
Pull the string, I'll spin fast enough to forget your face
Again.
One, two, three spokes and sticks
To scrape the cornea of a third eye,
Barely wide enough to see freckles on your face.
Painting sidewalks red with chalk
To hide blood from Christmas morning,
Ignoring every warning;
Do you think leaves brown and fall to die without a meaning?
Palms up, veins sprawled,
Come inside and prove yourself to the rusted copper sign on my spine,
Warning of a fine line.
Splatter spatter dots and scrapes
On the white wall beneath a triangle window,
Crossing a bridge you swore you'd ignore
Back to the soles of my shoes.
Red white and black or blue,
What's it matter when my bones and blood are no longer bruised.
And it doesn't make sense why we don't hold hands,
And why we can't help singing the words to our least favorite songs.
Today I heard you breathe,
Saw you bleed and slam a fist on the table,
Because for every flower that wilts and dies,
A secret garden dances ballet toward torn petals,
Blooming blue from red.

Who broke the rules,
Who broke your heart?
Why was the counter so sticky?
Even more beautiful in the rain
Or in the madness between your lungs.
Who broke the rules,
Who said it first?
Does it count if I lied through my teeth.
One rose for us all
But someone got there first and stole them all.
American as it seems it's still unfair.
Thank you for teaching me the sorrow in solidarity.
If the palm of your hand could cleanse each sin
blood would cover my body.

A cigarette filter dangles between the boney knuckles of my middle and index finger
Smoke rolls up my hand
My head falls to the back of the chair
I can smell the pollen drifting from the oak trees
They remember when dying for what you believed in was an easy decision

A cigarette filter hangs between my lips
Smoke rolls up my cheeks
Stinging my cornea
They have yet to see what it means to hold the hand of a brother you have never met
To watch his life become a folded flag

A cigarette filter lies in an ash tray
The smoke rolling into the atmosphere
The cherry red slowly fading
The filter has heard the worries of a soldier yet to serve his country

A pack of cigarettes lay on a bedside counter
Waiting to hear what more I have to say

You kissed away the scratches,
turned them into rose petals.