And we fight
But it's alright
Because we both have tears to shed

And we fight
But it's alright
Because we'll fight until we're dead

Maybe it's the music I listen to
Or maybe it's the weather
But one thing that I know for sure
Is that is isn't getting any better

Maybe it's the way we parted
I chased a shadow and you ran like hell
But one thing that I know for sure
Is that I am not feeling well

Maybe it's the fight I had
My best friend's silent resentment, driven insane
But thing I know for sure
Is that this is much more than pain

It was a highway that brought me here
Stuffed into a expensive car with four adults and good music
We drove for what seemed hours
Arriving on the slick, black streets of the Emerald City
Down a rabbit hole of old cars and termite ridden stairs
Past an old couch and a stray cat
Into a cold room with heaters stacked and jumbled
Full of pianos and good and beer
People I've known for twelve years
And people I've met only once
People I don't know
Different skins, of their own, of animals
Frizzy and cropped hair, wine and mason jar glasses
Walls painted silver, gleaming under forty year old lamps
Mismatched furniture and occupants alike
Sirens singing in the background
Children running through the foreground
Old friends and a blind man with a big dog
Visual artists and IRS agents
Musicians and carpenters
Mechanical engineers
Cobbled together around and old fireplace and a rosewood piano
Sharing stories and songs, sons and daughters
Tales from the road, and wedding pictures
I sat on an orange pleather couch in the makeshift kitchen
Watching theses people's children play with bionicles and dolls
Reading books and drawing on walls
Playing drums and answering calls
Fighting for bathroom stall
These are my people
I know them all

Does she know that each letter pressed on the keyboard
Adds more weight to her chains?
He sees it all, he sees it all
She thinks it will stay hidden
I see it all, I see it all
She knows that it's forbidden
Go ahead
I could care less
But when the flowers are dead
Don't ask for help with that mess

I've said all this before
I can't breathe
I'm shaking
I'm terrified
But I lied
It's all for the drama, drama, drama
This is real
This is no lie
I'm actually scared for my life

Don't tell me there are plenty of fish in the sea
When the silvery, slimy things hang from coral reefs
And are stuck in frayed netting
Not yet frayed to the point of breaking
When they drown in oil and choke on garbage
Scaly flesh peirced by razor blade teeth
Captured and smothered
And beaten and gutted
Frozen and thawed and chopped
Stewed and grilled and covered in salt and sauce
Tossed and sliced and torn and diced
Delivered to my table in a trice
Don't tell me that there are plenty of fish in the sea
Because one of those fish could be me

Can't I stay the ugly duckling?
Life is so much quieter in the shadows
I don't want to be admired anymore
Growing tired of things has grown tiring
And I don't want to be that kind of beautiful
Her shoes could fill with blood
And she'd still have somebody to please
How can you please people
By being against everything?
You lie to gain illumination
You starve yourself
In hopes of satiation
Can't I be the ugly duckling?
At least I'd get to eat

stolen flame
burnt fingers upon still heartache
wary of the trust in you
my faith stings
beneath each careful step
left believing in something
that is not confirmed or denied

i lay here
hanging
on each empty word
filled with anxiety
i am lost
you are too
but we managed to find each other
in the damp forest

i can't say how long i'll last
in your crystal gaze
frozen in your ways
for i am tired
and full of aching heartbeats
thriving on your existence
but you survive without me

i am lost
i see you no longer here
you have shifted

i am gone

unity of the sea
chaotic on my heart of grace
near to the dawn of hope
where i lay my secrets to rest
soft as the bark of the decaying tree
ignited by the sparks of clashing reflections
of silver-lined clouds
sweet anchor
lured by the surrounding essence of your evolution
forgotten and bemused
for your vision remains the ecstasy of my being
the anarchy to my resolve
leading me astray from my home
for everything in you has flourished in my dying territory
but when i flee your path in fear of crossing lines
and the danger set to my heart
will i be hunted by your guards?
for you hunger its purity
no, maybe i am to expect a new horizon
intoxicatingly beautiful
and blind to the prospect of chance
delved into the trenches of the water
unafraid of its findings
someday, i shall declare my allegiance
beyond the glimmer of a fallen pledge
and i too, will bathe in its tranquility