If you ever do stop to love me,
I will be here with the key to the locked doors,

Engraved with your name upon a ring, if you wish,
Or maybe just sit to talk not drink our sorrows.

A woman to a man is none less than beauty,
As a man to a woman is none more than everything,

Water falls as water does,
As you will if you ever do stop to love me.

And if you do I have undivided attention in my cold hands,
All for one, for it is undivided.

If there could be a flower for every time you perched in my mind,
We would have ourselves the most magnificent garden.

Old is fragile and needs care,
As I hope you do if you ever stop to love me.

You thought you were trash and never my treasure,
I feel I’ve watched from afar as our paper stays clean,

But I have been patient,
And I have waited,

Because time goes on as time does,
And maybe one day,
If you ever stop to notice:
You could love me.

Glass shattered by water on water from the skies,
Clouds interfere with the stars that are trying to shine.

Closer to the edge we’re drawn, where shallows drop off fast,
The stories of magnificents that fall beyond the past.

Farther from the waters there lives an old oak tree,
When wished upon by fathers will bring them what they need,

To any heart that has no greed, accepted by the tree,
So the myths will live on longer as they are unbelived.

So drawn unto the waves again, the depth of death remains,
The mystery that lies beyond, impure and carries pain,

Of travelers and sufferers and those who take their lives
The people that will laugh and scream, and call this all delight.

So walk on past the suds and ****, see through the clouds at night,
There’s nothing that is stopping you, this isn’t urban Dwight,

Do stop to drink his wine again another day to lose,
If you step into the waters not watching how they move.

You know it feels good to blacken your lungs,
To taste the fire back on your tongue.
Forget that you’re downing your every day,
Just to slur your words and wipe memories away.

Seeing things that aren’t really there,
Eyes like the moon but nobody cares?
Stuck in a room full of whispers and stares,
Where things people say just go through your ears.

Released once again back into a life,
To be stabbed in the back by an intoxicated knife.
Then day comes when everything is too loud,
And the floor won’t stop spinning upside down.

The memories want to climb back up your throat,
But your lips are sealed in Charon’s boat.
Everyone knows right is right and left is wrong,
Yet you drive down a dead end to a tragic song.

The whispers did warn and your voice sighed a promise,
But you were too independent and just wanted to calm us.
Death followed you home and took you over the bridge,
And the story of your life was too soon abridged.

Faded memories,
Torn photographs
I may never sleep again.
Weddings mean nothing if there’s no love
Love is nothing if there is no commitment.
I confess then:
To the rumors of us
We used the fire only to keep us warm
But ashes do nothing but poison our voices.
New matches light bright fires,
But we are damp and cannot spark
Though we are still legal
If we split then the innocent cry and those lives have none other than imperfect influence.
We cannot pretend, we cannot hide the fact
That the lies are true
affaire de cœur and blood cannot live side by side,
Rectify now or forever annihilate the peace.

The flame is beautiful when it burns bright,
Even when it’s not, embers can bring it back to life.

Unraveling one’s fable seems foreign tongues,
Jack Frost’s breath will chill the lungs.

All that’s needed has been provided,
What happens next is still undecided.

Whether frozen on the steps of a burning palace,
Or with exceptional family but seeing only the malice.

Everything can change with the strike of a match,
Any arsonist can tell you that.

So sell the matches, or let them burn,
Warm the fingers, ‘cause nothing is earned

Mother’s face in the stars above,
Who never took flight in the form of a dove

Then it happens, numbing cold trickles in,
Much too soon, the last year’s come to an end.

Asleep for 11.
A wandering palace.
Every soul a cloud
But there's a cloudless sky
As the horizon of the past comes forth
And none other than the relatives who were wiped from the pages,
Set into gaves,
Or remembered for generations.
Known and unknown but all surprise.
Behind: nothing.
Below: nothing.
Above: just sky
Vast and empty.
Atop sad faces.
Sad, pained faces
Spoken clear words are unheard of
and time becomes unknown.
Never a friend or unrelated soul,
Just blood and names  
Until the 11 years pass and voices become distinct,
Faces unblur
Grapes unpeel themselves
And the date returns its name.
They’ll ask for identification
But the thoughts are crumpled
and the walls are tilting
and the voice had forgotten the sound of itself after
11.
Long.
Years.

How do you know
That the earth is round
That cats have four legs
That we're on solid ground?

How can you know
That time will fly by
That everything grows old
That some things will die?

How can you tell
That your family's awake
That nature's alive
It's a risk that you take
To tell the whole world that you know what you know
And you can't tell how smart someone is,
Until you ask: How do you know?