There is time for you and I,
when the day has unrolled
like a tongue to make the most of our lives,
to sit and sing our songs
in voices raised against the sky.
I will take you, muffled in your head,
To every lost dream you used to carry
in your pocket, to green parks
where the voices of children at play
echo long past when the swings
and wounds have gone silent.

This is our time,
yours and mine,
to watch the flavor of the orange sun
dip below the horizon line.
Unscrew the cap from the bottle
and pass it around.
You will not be drowned today,
not today and not ever while I am with you.
Unhood your face and look where I am pointing,
there is such beauty in this world and
we cannot understand or stand it.

And the black of night is upon us,
though we did not see it steal.
I can only just make out the pale white
of your face and your sparkling eyes mirror
the stars. The warmth is in my belly
and I know that you must feel it too.
This grand adventure life scooped you up
in its arms and though it gave you pause
to hesitate and doubt yourself, we are long
past that now.

That my hand and I will
show you life in circles, for everything
that has a beginning must end and so must we.
You were born a screaming, mewling thing
and I hope that in dignity you’ll die.
The sky will still be there and the celestial
bodies will move, long past when yours
has decayed and gone.

I will push you upon this swing
and as you give up all breath in your lungs
to urge you higher, revel in the fact that
tonight we are young, you and I.
There is a way yet until we depart
and the darkness in your life and in your heart
will fade like the heat of the setting sun
until it is gone.

And we are young.

We are young.

And here we go again like two children
You’re mad at me, I’m mad at you
Over and over, it just never ends
Seems like everyday it’s something new

In an ocean of words
You want me to find the ones
That will make everything better
Believe me if I could, I would
And i’d drown us in every last letter

But as the questions fall unanswered down your face
I know the truth is, it’d still be too late

Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right
Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight
Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time
So maybe we should just call it a night

And if tomorrow we wake up to find
That both of our hearts have died
Well at least we can say that we tried

Frustration has made us believe we don’t care
Till it feels like there’s no point in trying
And every second spent getting nowhere
Is just another second spent lying

We lie to ourselves because
Nowadays it’s easier to pretend
Instead of finding our way out
Of all the broken pieces,
The building tensions,
And all our growing doubts

But as the questions fall unanswered down your face
I know the truth is, things will never be the same

Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right
Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight
Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time
So maybe we should just call it a night

And if tomorrow we wake up to find
That both of our hearts have died
Well at least we can say that we tried
At least we can say we tried…

And we just keep falling
Falling between the cracks
With nothing
Nothing to lead us back

And as the questions fall unanswered down your face
I know we'll never be too lost to find a way…

And if tomorrow we wake up to find
That both of our hearts have died
Well at least we can say that we tried
At least we can say that we once loved…

I smile like dead cities sometimes, the ones
that have lights crawling along the skylines
like centipedes with dim legs but you should
know, you’ve seen me hide in the morning fog.

He used to find himself along the curvatures
of her chapped lips, he told her that he liked her raspy
voice blown out of her throat because it made her
smile look more beautifully familiar.

She always laughs like taxis stuck in downtown traffic,
the ones the tourists always confuse for welcoming
store lights on stormy, dark days; I was meant to
be gone with haste but instead I sit, inviting strangers
into my prison with skulls for walls and my impatient,
lukewarm laughter innocently seduces your heart wet
from the dismal rain. You really don’t know this, do you?

He used to turn his head when she laughed because her
voice reminded him of a beauty he could never achieve,
and she always believed him because he was the one who
told her she had a broken heart that could be healed  
but his love for incomplete souls was real, he said.

But you tell me my wandering days are what makes me
shine like raindrops with the sun rays caught in their bodies -  
you tell me I am a pioneer with a goal, with a hint of ambiguous
transparency and for all the seconds unspent, I will believe you.
Because of something as simple as love.

Her eyes are rimmed with shrapnel shatters
Of bombs that detonated in the center of her faith.
I have never seen a soul so far from innocence,
So torn from belief in anything but the destruction of hope
Crumbling into the quivering cradle of a mother’s hands
As she watches her home burn in the name of justice.
Her ashen tears searing down her face in a funeral.

Her sole has trodden past fragments of a human's heartbeat
As it covered the ground that lead in the opposite direction of life,
And the war going on inside her rib cage wasn’t loud enough to stop
The cannons firing youth into the open arms of sorrow that would
**** the souls from their still growing potential, leaving them naked
While still being draped in blood with too many types to trace,
Shaking, in the reality of the lives they left behind,
One being their own.

Her smile is a canyon where too many stars have died
Each one bearing a wish set on its back by the trembling hearts
Of families being ripped apart by a battle they can never win,
While the blaring roars of emptiness, silence the whispers of their prayers
Bent on her knees, folding to a floor of emptied souls and hollow beats,
Her hands hang by his frail, body, and his fingers clench into a fist
I refuse to believe is the same size as his heart.

Your words spit and dribble down your chin,
forcing my hands to reach and catch them
with my fingertips. Silence finds a sultry
kiss within the static we fulfill in.

I hear the grasps in your breath, wrapping
around my neck until we’re both wheezing
for another chance to live. I knew you wanted
me to exhale a puddle of sighs at your front
door before I left without a word.

There’s red ash staining my palms — digging
it’s crimson dust into my lungs ‘til I see
fire in your eyes.
                              I burn for you.

I feel a chill into my brain, breezing through
the memories I’ve sustained. And the nostalgia
is darker than everything I’ve blown into
your veins, but it still tastes like regret.

Hold my neck the first time we licked
each other’s wounds, and tomorrow I’ll salt
them ‘til they are stone. And in a week I’ll
pick the scab and remember you as a scar.

When your flesh turns to dust,
and you become nothing more than cigarette ash
scattered on Atlantic breezes, they will decide
how human you were while you breathed.
On your tombstone, they will etch the essentials,
and summarise your million heartbeats in hastily carved letters,
by an impatient man. Each slab of silent sandstone
only reminds him of his ever fading mortality.

Each heartbreak, and each smile
contained within a single photo.
You have been reduced to a captured memory.
You have become nothing more than a collection of dates.
They will not remember you—they will simply remember
the moon's beauty as you said your goodbyes,
the corrupt idea that burned away the very life that
everything counted on.
You announced your presence, screaming ****** murders
that you were one day to commit.

When they embalm you with salts and pure white rags,
when they trap you forevermore, to sleep silently within
a cruel, confined coffin, they will speak dramatic eulogies in hushed voices,
standing over your grave-to-be.
Quietly, they will remember you,
as if frightened that they will wake the dead with their muffled,
forced tears. And as they lower you into the ground,
will your mother cry?

With aching arms,
the once happy,
will seal the grave with a kiss and a headstone,
and there will be no epitaph.

Your humanity reduced
to sandstone, dates,
and a name that will cease to mean anything
Except to the moon, except to the stars,
except to the lonely dead

I saw your shadow today and I fell in love.
It was short and it was small and it was complete.
It could never be mine, treading pavement and paths not mine to pass.
But I watched as best I could, as one traces the flight of the all above.

It was short and it was small and it was complete.
The skeletal shades glowed bright red in the evening sun.
But I watched as best I could, as one traces the flight of the all above.
Seeing your reckless face at its very best guess, grass summer sweet.

The skeletal shades glowed bright red in the evening sun.
I started to sprint and run and run knowing I’d never find your grasp.
Seeing your reckless face at its very best guess, grass summer sweet.
I was compelled to forward motion, to chase what could not be won.

I started to sprint and run and run knowing I’d never find your grasp.
My lungs in heave, my legs cramped, my entire life in flash.
I was compelled to forward motion, to chase what could not be won.
And I’ll keep groping and feeling for your shape traced until my last.