im still a dreamer,

but don't be fooled;

i'm seeking every thing but you.

trailing off in atom bombs,

at night, ignite the things i lose,

fall back to what i used to love,

maybe some day it's you.

convince me it's a flame,

call me callously insane,

only loved ones recall my name;

only dying parents,

oldest friends,

lovers longing better things.

but my liver loves the bitter drinks,

as it catapults my life away,

where there's nothing but my words,

or so to speak.

until then ill enjoy the screens,

while my body's out of song.

Imperfect Occupant:

Seeking Four Walls To Vent,

Always On Time With Rent.

Lacking Friend, Family,

(Roommate?) On The Fence.

Long Lease, Lost Romantic.

Carefree And Losing It.

1) a bookstore in May,

2) your apartment in Maine

3) an airport in spring

4) random chinese food place

5) my apartment (2nd floor)

all in all,

only stars left above,

all i can't change or create,

asking for phonecalls,

but they all spin away.

gone are the days,

i am asked if i'm okay,

now i just sit and think away,

every drunken thing i cannot say,

until stars have long passed,

then i say im awake.

your sun-dried absence,

thinly layered in daylight,

then tonight:

all the waterfalls call to arms,

alarming my life, and yours, and all,

but none of these words,

truly describe my loss.

hearts were meant to break,

i don't know if yours ever did,

but i know what it's like without you.