I'm going to hold you.
Love you.
I want to kiss away your tears.
This is not a want, my love.
This is what I need.
From you?
Your smile...your laugh...your lovely eyes and lips.
I need these things.
I need you, love.
I need your love.
I..am going to kiss away your tears.
So you'll never feel pain,
sorrow,
or ever want again.
I love you..and it feels like this is it for me.
Or what used to be...of me
And I never wanna go back.
I just need to kiss away your tears, love.

Take up the insomniac’s burden
So sleepless and yet not tired,
Look not up to your bed.
For there is nothing more we desire.
We live in simple contradiction,
At day, the city hums it’s lullabies
But here we are. Awake,
Forced to endure those sleeper’s sullen cries.

Take up the insomniac’s burden
To never feel again,
The patience in that persons eye
And you thought there’d never be an end.
They wonder why we don’t sleep
You see..us insomniacs are all the same
In some way there’s no getting over
The hurricane after the rain.

Take up the insomniac’s burden
A war of raging peace
Still awake, our soft hearts breathe irregularly.
It’s frustrating. To say the least.
To know that you won’t be the same
At least not anytime soon
To know that person’s gone forever
And all she left for me? The moon.

Take up the insomniac’s burden
We live just night by night
Some of us..nothing but ****** romantics
We’re just attack dogs without their bites.
We sit and over think our plans
Plotting on how to set them in motion.
So go tell the city’s lovers we’re on our way
To assassinate. Their emotion.

Yes.
I remember you
But not your name. Kate? No.
Mallory? No.
I'm sorry.
There's too many faces now.
But I do remember you. Mollie? No.
You were the girl with the blue eyes. Yes.
The girl who wore contacts.
The girl who's eyes are actually a beautiful brown.
Yes you. I saw you.  I remembered you.
I wanted to love you madly. Kelsey? No.
You spoke to me about how you're from out of town
But you said you'd move here one day.
With me? No. Emily? No.
******.
You'll have to forgive me...
See, I have a photographic memory,
But sometimes the pictures come out blurry.
Here. Let me hold you a second.
I promise it'll come back to me. No? Ok.
Nice try? I know. I've never held you before, but it was worth a try.
But we can start now? No? Ok.
Jenny? No.
Forget it. I don't need to remember.
I love you. Brown-eyed, Blue-eyed, name-less girl.
We don't need names. Why? Because it's really not that important.

The breath that comes from your lungs.
The saliva on your lips.
The taste of your soul,
They all meet the passion on my tongue.
And the thick aroma of our uniting mouths can be smelled cities away.
The smell is caught by young lovers,
Lovers in trees, sharing a first kiss
And it smells like the love of home
The love of kissing a scraped knee
Of holding her hand on the way to class
Of his *** thrusting into your mind...
Making you..
Crazy.
The kind of crazy people only dream of,
The "Movie" kinda crazy
The "Impossible" crazy
The "If only this moment would never end.." ...
Crazy.
But I have questions when I'm with you,
And you answer them all before I ask...
With the breath of your lungs
The saliva on your lips
and the taste
of Your soul.

It's funny how we feel so much,
but we cannot say a word.
We are screaming inside,
but we all can't be heard.

It's also funny how you can say something out loud and have it all come out wrong,
but then ten minutes later you'll hear what you feel ....in a song.
The world is a funny place,
a place of warmth and disgrace.
Where you can think so much and never really be heard,
so sometimes it's better to just...not say a word.

When I look into your eyes I see the dirt of the troubled path that you've walked,
the fear that you hide,
The many emotions that you feel and often don't express.

When I look into your eyes I see determination and strength,
A craving for something more,
You're many dreams for the future that overwhelm you from time to time.

When I look into your eyes I see warmth and affection,
A deep compassion,
The want to mean something to someone at all times.

When I look into your eyes I see you and I,
A future of happiness,
A love so strong preparing to consume us.

I can wash a dish SO GOOD...
So good, that you could eat off it...

I can fly a kite SO high, and a paper airplane SO fast and far you'd think...
You'd think I was  some kind of  a pilot

I listen to my music as I sleep.
I dream of green women abducting me.
I forget these dreams when I wake.
I tie my shoes before I fall on them.
I make less than average knots and fall on them anyways.

And I can do these things.
I can Fold a shirt SO Messily ...you'd think I had just thrown it on the floor.
Yes, I can iron my clothes SO unevenly you would think I'd  jumped out of a basket.
Because I did. Why? Because I am an Average person.

My !LIFE!! is Average.
My !CITY! is Average.
And yes..even my love is average.
I walk around my city with...wide eyes...but my head down.
Who can see me?
Who can I see? ...I walk. I go home. I work..and I eat...and then I ****. Average.
I wake up and I put my pants on one, two, no no FIVE! Five SLEEVES at a time.
I wear one sock and TWO sandals while making eggs in my apartment.
Why?
Well why not? I can do these things.
I am no superhero, I..am Average.

In just one
             step
                 of multiple

                             stairs  (stepping).
This lone Ant isn't much of
                      - anything......at all.

[He, Mister Ant, has no rules.]

It's creepy how good you make me feel.
The way you look at me..
The way you sometimes don't look at me.

It's scary to think I hated you not six months ago.
No not hated..disliked.
(what was wrong with me?)
Where were you?
Where have you been?
And why couldn't we have found each other sooner?


You are...
My Best Friend.
The girl I love.
The girl who I once told to "*******"
and now I say queer things like "I love you."

I say abstract things like:
"Goodmorning my love."
and,
"You are....beautiful, my love."
and,
"You're mine...and I love you."

All these odd phrases come out of my mouth,
because I don't know any better.
And I don't understand what I feel.
For lack of better words the world calls it love.
I hate calling it love.
Love is too commercial...what we have is too natural.
It's not love. It's forever.
...I hope.

Looking at the wall
Feelin not so small
Between alone and very poor
Society is rotting from the core.
Allen is the third name
But all four seem exactly the same
This is no code, this is real
This is an ode, to how I feel.
Full of love
None comes back
Wondering what it is I must lack.
A junior nonetheless
And I gotta take a second guess
What do I want?...
They say I have to join
"The Hunt." *** is that?
This is boring,
And I wanna go
To where? I don't know
I need something
Something's missing
I used to feel like a king
Now I feel like a ***
One that can't seem to overcome.
What?
Life's questions. How many?
There's more than 20 plus 1.
There's infinitely many but none.
What to do?
What do I do?
Help.

I must now write for you a poem
As I sit here all alone.
Tales of some random ******* Facebook:

My friend askin’ “Whats been up?”
“ugh..life.”  I say to him.
Realizing I’m sounding morosely grim
I continue with a story
Of how my life was once filled with bitter glory
But on second thought…

…”Nevermind I tell him.”
“You have other things to do than listen
But now I must sign off this facebook
And if you care later I’ll let you look.
Look into my mind
Just to see what you can find
Explore me Like Indiana Jones
Veering through the winding traffic cones
Don’t go crashing unexpectingly
Because my minds not filled with the expected.
But instead with the dead..resurrected. “

“Sorry if I’m not making sense.” I apologize
Hoping that he doesn’t one day search my eyes
And find the inner me
Locked inside but I’ve always been free.
“Goodbye” I tell him.
“See ya” He answers.
“But before I go..”He types
“Can I call you later tonight?”
“Maybe we can talk and make plans
Or I can tell you better who I am.”
I ponder his offer for only a second
“Sure.” I say
“My number is..”
Bam. And just like that..
Chat Disconnected.

I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought of you everyday.
I hear your voice while I'm at work.
I see your smile on the faces of the new women I now make laugh.
Searching for bits and pieces of you,
Of who you used to be,
has become my only hobby.