Blatantly pacing impatiently, waiting for daylight. I'm tired and wide awake, but it's not the right time of morning. It's a burning in the brain and the ***** of my eyes that keeps me in waking and my bed is cold and my hand is empty of yours, darling. The situation is hardly dire, but if you'd light my fire I'd be higher and we could be flyer together...

There's a small place in my heart, and it has yet to be filled.
The place in the midst of where I hide my words, and my worth.
Not a soul has earned this place, and no soul ever will.

A walk through the misty wood.
The trail latent with track of hooves,
which tell me the ways the forest moves,
into the endless green hood.

I would step to dance upon these tracks,
but the sound is what holds me back.
I shouldn't disturb the animals around,
or step on the forests leafy gown.

The powerful sounds of the forest,
not meant for a tape to be repeated
because the pure sound is sweet to my ear,
and to my heart, it will always be near.

The night before, she whispered,
"The quickest way to break a heart
is to pretend you have one."

Howling,
like you've never heard before.
And she sat next to me, radiating.
Her body jumped with every bump,
as foam blossomed out of her mouth.

And I promised her
that I would get her there in time.
And her dealer promised me
he didn't give her anything.

Howling.
I was howling,
like you and I have never heard before.
And her glazed eyes would open.
And my eyes were wide shut.
Her body lain crooked,
like the antenna of the wrecked car
my grandfather left me.

And I wondered if the planet
was moving too quickly
or if I wasn't moving fast enough -
before I decided the only time
that was real, was now.

Howling.
The police sirens were howling,
like the suburbs have never heard before.
The wails were begging me to pull over.
And the flashes of red and blue
danced across her ivory skin.
She mumbled to her deceased grandma,
and I asked her to stay.

And in that moment,
I tried to numb myself.
I tried to detach
and let the river carry me.

Howling.
I was howling,
like the deputy
had never heard before.
I begged for an escort.
I begged to go back into my car.
He looked at her knotted body
but didn't see her like I saw her.
And he told me to remain calm.
He told me to stop yelling -
but I couldn't express enough.
I couldn't release enough desperation.

And the river carried me
to the rocks before the fall.
At the bottom, I knew she was dying,
and this killed me, most of all.

Howling.
I was howling her name,
like she had heard before -
but not this time.
No, not this time.

The night before, she whispered,
"The quickest way to break a heart
is to pretend you have one."