i will start a bonfire
and throw in all that i've been
all that i've ever touched
with my fingertips
or with my heart,
all my clothes
and nights with no dreams
all the stars i've watched thinking of you
the moon and the rainbows too
all the beds i've made love in
all the songs i find you in
the poems i  wrote
my tears and smiles
all my soul
my eyes,
this skin you'll never touch
the way i want you to,
all my seasons
and all the years i'll have to live without you.
i'll make a bonfire
and i will throw in all i've got
all the trees
and everything surrounding me
a great bonfire, indeed
designed to put me on desolation row
for eternity.
i'll throw in all that hurts the most
except for my love for you
and a picture with your name on it
that i keep
for rainy days like these.

What if they hate me
For a good reason
What if it's something
That I can't change

What do I do then

"A love so pure
I hate to admit
I love you


You make me a good person
Without you I'm nothing
I love you for loving me for me


Without being free
What would become of me
Love without you, is nothing I want to be


Swing with me
Swing soft
For white is alone and pure


Just as pure as we
These comments don't move me
For I love being with you


Being me
No matter how mean I can be
Why do you always put up with me

For love will set us free"

Wouldn't it be great
If we just had nights
We could be lost in the thoughts
Forever; all the time....

someone's in the next room over
having *** while we
are weeping
what a way to mark the occasion
the day my fingers found a wound
you let someone else doctor
it's upsetting see
the bible in drawer next to us
the way our hands still
fit together
like the torn halves
of a love letter
the way you got
all dressed up like the rain
and how we couldn't tell
the difference in the shower
it was the longest hour and a half
spent crying
the hot water wouldn't give up
so why should we
right?
even though it was scalding
neither of us touched the ****
we knew this was supposed to hurt
your hair
a black mess against my shoulder
my fingers
oil in the vinegar of your hands
our bodies
the great divide
all the sobbing
a river runs through it
without the courage
to carry or **** us
so we step out
and drip dry
down to a mute breakfast
composed of quiet
and last nights liquor
as we came back in
there were people in our room
at first i thought them detectives
dissecting things
to see who had died here
i had forgotten this
was a hotel
and they were only
cleaning up after us
i wanted to stop them
plead
that the sheets were still perfect
that if they clean the bathroom
no one will know
what happened here
someone has to remember
"please
i know
these cigarette burns
by name
i will bury the faucet
let me take the tub
i don't care how
if i have to
i will drag it home by hand"

Tell me,
Should I worship the universe for letting me loving you,
Or should I condemn it for letting you hurting me?