Love, I have no easy answers for you.
I’ve run out of excuses,
offer no

more apologies, and
I haven’t seen a single
shooting star in months.

I call you love because you were,
because you are,

because,
right now,
to me,
you always will be.

I’m a good man
in a cruel world

that grabs my shoulders
and shakes the hell out of me.

My golden heart shudders
against my chest,
grinding ill-greased gears
of resolve,
lugging the rhythmic consistency
of determination

The world shakes me, spitting,
“You petty fool. What kind
of a man
are you really?”

Love, I have no easy answers for you
because there are some moments

of loneliness on Saturday nights,

moments in life that make my heart beat
like pyrite,

trading soft kisses with neon lights
and shot specials, crawling
into the early hours of the morning

looking for happiness everywhere,
like it’s a forgotten jacket
slumped over a bar stool.

Finding you
in everyone’s
eyes.

These nights,
never change,

the world shakes
and spits.

Remember the night at the lake?

We laid on the hood of my car, we counted
stars like baseball cards,
bottle caps, like the days left
until summer camp.

It was on that night
that I first called you
Love to every meteor we saw.

because
you were.

There are only hard
decisions Love,
but you already know.

Consequences of mistakes,
your impulses fed
mine.

I’m a good man in a cruel world,
my golden heart dims neon,
remembers meteor showers
and childish adoration.
The world shakes
and spits
but my heart
isn’t pyrite.

Crawling from one
shot to the next
I still see you
everywhere.

Love, I have no
easy answers for you.
I’ve run out of excuses,
offer no

more apologies, and
I haven’t seen
a single
shooting star
in months.

I wanted to run to you
To prove that I was
A child of love
Rose man
Flower king
Hearty hippie hipster
But this is not the nature
Of my dreams
My life spews nightmares
Deep dark wells
Of despair
Despising the rising
Of my truest inner self

I wanted to run
With scissors
That cut through
The *******
Not knives to cut you
But blades that snip in two
The glue
The binds us to the past
To rip the elastic bands
That always snap back
To those fake static facts
Of the so called moral past

I wanted to run
But instead I stumbled
Bumbling buffoon
Cut myself instead of
Saving you

Now I don't run at all
I walk a little
But mostly I crawl
I don't call anyone
I’m in self-imposed exile
But I still believe
I can be a child of love

And passing the place that I knew nothing of
I swear I knew more of myself in the aftermath of you.

Under the three lights of Linden I saw
the pages of my life flipped over by a careless wind

As I sipped my iced coffee, blankly staring
at my story as if I'd really rather be somewhere else,

As if I'd heard it all before, if it meant nothing to me;
It couldn't mean much because it didn't mean much to them.

But who am I? The three lights beg the question with ruddy faces
like that of my father at last night's awkward family dinner.

I answer with a grimace and a sound in my throat,
something close to a gurgle of a child and cry of a dog.

The night sky clouds sigh my name and the silhouettes of stars
whisper of the future, of fairies, of other unimaginable things.
So I wait for new beginnings in the town of all my endings.

Must **** to be so miserable
pining on, day after day
wishing that there was a way
to make your life more livable.

It must **** to talk so much
about people you know nothing of,
people that you claim to love;
It’s safe to say, you’re out of touch.

It must **** to envy me
To wonder what you did so wrong
for me to leave you for so long,
ignore you so, and be so free.

I hope it ***** to see me there,
looking, feeling better than
you, and all your failed plans…
Your mass destruction's but a stare. :)

Sorry for smelling like cigarette smoke and for starring at you all the time
for laughing too loud and for shaking so much
Sorry For shooting my gaze to the floor when you tell me words that weren't made for people like me.

Be my baby canopy,
cover me in emerald joy
in gales and gusts, sprays of rain,
Be the shield I shan't employ.

By the seaside running out
of staggered breath, though you know
how cherry my cheeks do get;
hurry, kiss them while they glow.

Be the leaves upon my arms
Flutter, whisper, rustle down
Till all I am is but a noun
held in your mouth, your throaty charm.

Brave the hurricanes with me,
I'll be the one who will not fly,
You'll be the baby's lullaby,
above the rain, so anchoring.

Watch the window, hear it creak
above the pitter patter plain,
bathe in the sorrow of the rain,
come up cleaner, with a squeak.

Be the breath upon the hearth
breathe deeply so your lungs are warm,
feel orange among the grungy storm;
grow a greenhouse in your heart.

Follow me out to the Mar,
walking down into the deep end
and down reproaches Heaven will send;
the solemn tear drops of a star.

Up we go, and all around,
Spin with me, collapse and cry,
Until the clouds do say 'Goodbye',
All we hear are hearts that pound.

In the aftermath, it shines,
Angelic pools, a chorus clear,
The silver light plays softly here
like no one once had shed a tear.
Now my heart chokes water, dear,
So hold your pluviophile near.