I can easily string words together
and a smile forms across your lips
the perfect image or feeling
appears in front of you

I can create an idealistic image
of people and choose to show those
glass half full point of views
but I do not believe in them

I struggle to see the beauty in humanity
when all I see around me
Is glass half empty people
with black spots on their hearts

That was my reality until
you
you lifted my heart
and filled my head with hopes
for what the world could be

So now I am trying
to see the black spots
and the blindingly golden ones
side by side
Because you make me believe
that humanity can be beautiful
if you let it

Talk to me, in sweet melodies,
In a language my heart will understand.
Sweep me up into arms of strength,
And drop me gently, so I stand.

Take me into your glorious heat,
Introduce a world of painted teal.
Direct me to a path into the light.
Show me something real.

Capture the blue that's taken residence,
And release it back into the distance of the skies.
Hold me under blanketing stars, and the moon.
Promise me, deeply, into my eyes.

And hold on to that promise.
Remain honest, to yourself, and to me.
Then you can leave me safely, unaltered,
And we'll both be free.

Burn brightly.
Burn until your will is ash.
Let your essence cover the world
in wide, sweeping strokes,
scorching houses and forests as you go.
Let the fire in the pit of your stomach
devour your fears, your insecurities.
Let them be remnants of the past
and nothing more.

The red, orange, and yellow of tonight
will last forever.

There is no air left
In these sheets
If we don't get out soon
We will drown
In our stupid happiness

Too many shattered Mirrors
Mirroring my sins.

Too many walls
Hindering my wings.

My growth remains
  still
as silence Kills.

How do you love the
Unloved?

Is
It wrong
That the thing
I miss when you're gone
Is the television's dull hum
The silence is lonely, but the absence is relief
That I can walk down into the kitchen without akward words or my *** getting grabbed

I
Turned on
NPR
And I felt at ease
More at home at night on my own
Than I've felt in a long time, am I so wrong if I

Can't
Say that
I'm upset
Somehow lost when you
Aren't at home in the evening hours?

And
That I'm
Not upset
That I don't have to
Justify every move and twitch
That I prefer to talk to the man who I can't judge?

If
It is
Wrong for me
To think like I do
(Though you do claim to read my mind)

I'm
Not sure
I can show
You who I am now

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.