I often tell you things
like no one is listenining
as the television casts a glow
on your sleeping face
I'll keep on whispering

I love you

Over and over
as I stroke your hair
as you dream
the ghosts of your past
*like I'm not even there

It seems colder this time...

I mean, sure, I still have a warm body
to lay next to but I'm still chilled
Of course, the fire that burns
hasn't been tended upon
Nobody to cut the wood
No body, no body to cradle
Snowflakes like crystal tears
drop gently from my fears
little tiny rivers of dread
icy rivlets creating endless years
to be skated inside my head

So cold have I become
as I lay me down to sleep
you were once upon a time
the body that once sought mine
now just an empty husk
where I get to warm my feet

I cry into buttercups
where bees sip
their latest sup
I rage in rivers
that are just sand beds
sitting cross legged
watching my skipping stone
just sitting, it hasn't skipped
as I sit and beg
for it to move
I watch the Moon
cross a starless sky
and I cry, I cry
for it to touch it's angel
For should the Moon
ever meet the Sun
the Earth would rejoice
and a love would be caught
but, alas
the Moon never seems
to catch the Suns eye
even sitting in the sky
in daylight, waiting, waiting
for the time to be right
I cast a penny into the fountain
my wish drowned, just like the last
I scaled opposition like a mountain
breathing ghosts from within my past
I kissed a girl and made her cry
I kissed a woman, she liked it
I kissed a man I thought I could love
I kissed a child, a product, despite it
Sitting at the crossroads
simply playing my own tune
I'm sitting here, solo
hoping that someone tunes in soon
Love!
It's just a memory, skipping stones
and moonlit walks
Love thyself in all thy forms
Self love
walks the talk

Sometimes, I remember the good times
but I struggle to remember when times
were good
Sometimes, I remember the bad times
but I can always seem to remember
where I stood
Sometimes, I remember the memories
planted firmly inside my dreams
Sometimes I'm a tightly woven nightmare
Sometimes I'm ripped wide open
at the seams
Sometimes I'm a closed book
Sometimes I'm an open prayer
Sometimes I'm promissory
Sometimes I'm not even there
Sometimes I think that parts of me
should be sold as a sealed section
unwrapped in a place of loneliness
feeding just another's addiction
Sometimes when I lay down at night
I pray to be someone I could be
Sometimes when I lay down at night
I wish there was someone next to me

Someone to hold me
Someone to care
Someone who knows
*Sometimes, I'm there