the need for us to tell one another
that love is a game
and we are the losers
is evident in this place
i, however, wish to believe
that love
is a song
and we are the singers

she is my song
and the right
for the melody
is infinite

so dont tell me that i dont love her
enough
i love her plenty
more

sometimes my eyes turn green in the sunlight
unfortunately
i get that gene from him
fortunately
if there is no mirror, we don't exist

My therapist drinks his coffee lite and sweet
I drink mine black with ice
I feel that says a lot about our personalities

I know why the heart contracts and squeezes like a lucky python.
I know why it drives salty tears
and drunk nights
and endless painkillers.
Love is a killer that has no grounds
for saving
And I am aware that my heart is trying to escape its wrath,
trying to get to its desire
Its destination
It wants to eat her
It wants to swallow her whole

I hate the way they hold the steering wheel.
As if it was the most casual gesture in the world.
As if they could do it with their eyes closed.
As if they were the ones driving the cab.
I'm sick of being passenger
and being naked under these safety belt restraints.
I'm ******* and no one seems to care
because we could never know the rules of the road like they do.