And if keeping my arms around you
I squeeze you much too tightly
I hope you don’t forget me,
Your eyes oh so flighty
And if I can’t keep your mind off
The drastic measures you take
Our dreams will suffer softly,
For they’re awful things to fake.
My mother will stare helpless
As I experiment in you
The Paris longing feeling lovely
To stay inside our dew.
Fashionably late
our eyelids will become
Staring into sockets
To save growing numb.

Mediocrity,
Life unmoved.
Is it really all so true?
If I know
My life is bland,
Does it change
Where I stand?
Arcade, Jukebox,
Floor covered in dust.
I can feel my eyes
Growing rust.
I can’t help it,
I’m romantic,
I’m unoriginal.
Ain’t nothing worse than that.

Voice like cobwebs
A face like a glove.
Standing on the edge with the devil,
Checking up on the rest.
Can’t you save me?
You wait for no one,
But you can save me.
Half an hour,
Maybe more,
And I’m crying on your floor.
Save the sugar,
Saccharine sweet.
Just let me be someone.
Anyone.
You.

Seeing your face in the light,
It’s so hard.
To keep walking toward a life I know
I can’t start.
You want to help me create a new one
I know.
You want to help to be a new one.

I’ve never been you,
Nor do I want to.
I love you.
I do.
You only love yourself,
Can’t love anyone else,
But your supposed to.
You know who.
You know, me.

Tracing the cracks in your spine,
I can’t help
But think of my new life with you.

When it all comes to an end,
Why will it come to an end?
I’m not
Special.
There’s no uniqueness
Coursing through me.
I don’t see things
Differently.
I’m no asset to anyone.
And I’m happy.
So why would something
So
Beautiful.
So
Tender.
So
Passionate and light,
Take me?

I wish you were a flower.
So I could keep you in my pocket
            and read to you
    and you would listen!
           The works of Ginsberg,
     and Twain,
who contradict each other beautifully.
            We would drink tea.
      And start a war,
Accidentally.
      Bunches of Chamomile,
          Earl Grey,
             Darjeeling
Would join the ranks in our brigade
          Against the world.
   But that's too harsh for
              A flower.
                  But.
Couldn't you be something else?
         An atom bomb.
     A butterfly.
A girl with roses for eyes.
          Two headed and beautiful
  You would fly from the last explosion,
Till your eyes wilted
    And melted
     And you slept.
With me and Ginsberg and Twain.

He is standing at my doorway,
He is looking at his feet.
The moon was rising as he stared.
The stars were calling
And the wind was drawing
Pleas of just don't be scared.

My mirror broke when I cried and spoke,
'Keep me in your sleep.'
He tried to dream, but stopped and screamed,
'Can't you stay in one piece?'

He drained the alcohol, threw me down the hall.
My heart was breaking in his whims.
He held up his head, and woke up from the dead,
Said 'Broken, just like my limbs.'

I hadn't though he was capable, the tears were so palpable,
We hugged and I cried a goodbye.
Then I woke up from my dream, so real it had seemed,
'Till I noticed the note and the signs.

'Haley,' he wrote, 'I'm sorry you're broke,
But I think I've been mislead.
'I can't help that I'm gone, but I just felt so wrong.
It's lonely living in your head.'