That moment.
Oh so fragile and sweet.
But what becomes of it
If 'us' ends in defeat?

That potential.
The most beautiful thing of all.
It occurs before it all begins
And before it all will fall.

Beads hanging from the lights
The room is filled with cold air
I'm just such a crazy sight
Especially with my wild hair

A mirror hung just right for me
But much too short for you
There's nowhere else we should be
And we'll find plenty of things to do

A stereo playing your favorite CD
And I make the lights dim
You really want to be with me
And I'm about to let you in

Are you feeling a little scared?
I feel your heart on mine
The sheets are still warm right there
Where we made love for the first time

Today I gave my love away
To someone I won't regret
It feels so good to feel this way
With someone I'll never forget

I'll keep this memory in my room
And save it for a rainy day
I know I'll see that special boy soon
This is a love story told my way

Let me tell you about myself.
I am a mosquito magnet.
I have little scars of itchy memories all over my scrawny legs.
But I think it means my blood is sacred.
I find my laugh unique and one of a kind.
My walk, resembling more of a bowlegged wobble, allows me to stand out against the crowd.
(My walk isn't that bad, by the way, I was merely exaggerating for stylistic purposes.)
What's more, the fact that I am prone to blushing at even the slightest glance my way is kldjaf;ldjfoiad;htija;ji;ajf.
I love it.
My clumsiness only adds meaning to the moments in which I am fleetingly graceful.
Yes, my posture is rough around the edges,
But it signifies that I have been around the world a few times.
At least I don't jut out my pretty decently sized *******.
You're welcome.
I find my lack of arguing skills in the moment cute.
My mistakes are adorable, and my obvious flaws are endearing.
The fact I can't **** an ant without showing sympathy is amiable.

If only somebody thought the same way about me.
If only people looked and analyzed others as closely as I do.
They would see.
That way I wouldn't be the only one loving myself. (Or trying to.)

If dying is similar to sleep,
I'll lie in bed and count the sheep
They'll smile at me in passing-by,
And wait for me on the other side.

All will be glad when I finally come
The sheep will dance, and laugh and run.
And all the animals will see
That dying was the fate for me.

My loved ones back home won't understand
"We want you back," They'll cry in demand
But alas, I am much happier here
With the sheep, the birds, the rabbits and deer.

For what I lacked in life I have in death
And I'll never return to breathing a breath
If dying is sleeping, I'll sleep all day
As long as with the sheep I will stay.

In November I met that love
and by the end of summer we ceased.

Two months later came, like it does.

He snapped his collar bone from skating the bowl.
I got drunk alone and spewed guts on myself after the first hour.
Only one was a side effect from the breakup.

Too scared to face it, we pass by with silence,
too many different kinds.

One day.

But I don't think I'll be able to say anything correctly.

Small talk.

He remarks, "My bone is healing up."
Well.
All I have is, "I'm still throwing up."

He walked away
But he looked back
What I would say
If I could have
I miss the days
Before gone bad
I miss the way
We were not sad
You cannot stay
Well that is that
It's your choice babe
I hope you're glad
Choice I would make
Wouldn't be that
But it's too late
Too late for that
He walked away
But he looked back.

When my daddy leaves me,
I will sleep in his button-down, collared shirt.
I will smoke one cigarette each year on his birthday.
I will always sit in the last seat of the row at the movie theaters.
I will set a pack of junior mints down on his grave religiously.
I will learn how to play 'Stairway to Heaven' on the guitar.
I will always address my waiter or waitress as Sir or Ma'am.
I will become lifelong friends with perfect strangers.
I will always keep a pack of minty gum in my car.
I will watch National Geographic documentaries on how the universe works.
I will learn how to make delicious, impeccable chicken fried rice.
I will never, ever spank my children.
When my daddy leaves me, I will remember him
With all the little things I do.

Images floating in my head
like balloons turning in the wind
they soar higher and higher.

Holding hands under water
and the unbearable itch of bug bites.

Higher they soar.

Meeting a friend, and the heart-breaking cries
of a sister in her room late at night.

Colorful balloons growing smaller the higher they go.

Making love in my yard in the dusk, too quick to savior,
but urgent enough to be remembered.

I can barely see them now.

Black pupils dilating
only because we're in love.

The balloons disappeared over time
but I will always know they are there.

That's what counts.

Funny how
When in the car
Watching out the window as marks in the road roll by,
It can all appear so fast.
Too fast for your eyes to keep track of
The yellows and whites that flash.
Individual streaks blurring into one mass.
But focusing more closely,
One could watch them slowly,
Only if they took it one line at a time.
Funny how life is.

My love is like the wind;
You drift away from me.
And our love has yet to begin,
At least that's how it seems.

My love is like the wind;
With you I never win.
But with you in my hair,
And you everywhere,
That's how it's always been.

It gently rocks her to sleep,
But a sleep filled with nightmares.
It sweetly drowns her lungs,
Leaving her desperate for air.
It lovingly shoves stones down her throat, making it impossible to swallow.
Finally,
It thrashes her against the jagged rocks that lie in the sea.
All she ever wanted was just a dip in the water.

Falling down in the rabbit hole,
Scared to death of being alone.
Walk together inside of my soul
We laugh, we fight,
But at the end of the night,
We always moan.

I forbid it to leave.
Even as my eyes water
Even as the coughs erupt
Even as you tell me that's enough.
You, of all people.
I hold my breath and never let it escape.
I let it burn my throat
I let it suffocate my lungs
I let it out affectionately,
Ever so slowly,
Into your parted lips.
I let it consume me in a cloudy haze
And then
I let you take me away.

Syntax couldn't make him stay,
Diction just got in the way.
Figurative language failed,
And tone wouldn't have prevailed.
But my repetition worked,
And he thrashed, he gagged, he ******.
I'll keep repeating myself,
Until they question his health.
For what makes this boy so weak,
Is to repeat and repeat:
How dare you.

You were mine.
I watched our show again today
It reminds me of that one day.
At the time,
I needed your touch just to belong
The TV never remained on for long.
We combined,
Like seawater mixes with the sand
I only wish I knew beforehand...
I was blind.

No matter how many blankets,
My feet and toes are still icicles.
No matter how many hot chocolates,
My teeth still chatter and tremble.
No matter how many good memories,
Winter is still the coldest time of the year.
No matter how much I try to figure it all out,
You're still gone.
And that is one thing
That won't change with the seasons, so I have learned.

I was pinched by the crisp freshness of cold that winter slips me,
like acid in my morning coffee. Then
I slip out and take the cliffs for a spin,
diving down,
like a squirrel leaping toward a too-far tree. (Except I lack
all the hope you know is inside that nutty creature.)
I brutally edit my videos
and i cut them into
pieces, trying to arrange them in the right spots.
But you know
you can't do that sort of thing to people.

That which slips by is time.
He reaches a point in life filled with dismay
And supposes it is here that he shall stay.
Her presence will do him well, well enough
That you could stretch and almost call it love.
And there is no point to wish or yearn
For they reached the point of no return.
And they will do just fine.
Thank god this story isn't mine.