No one knows whose dreams sleep under the pillow every night
The eyes are full of dreams,
No one knows whose words speak in the ear everyday
These lips try but never open,
No one knows whose thoughts grow in the mind even now
The mind keeps on thinking,
No one knows whose love beats in the heart always
And the heart keeps on beating.

He bottled up his emotions, and fermented his own bitter wine.
I watched him deteriorate as he drank each one, but said he was fine.
Many years later he became a sad inferior shell of a man from this drink.
He decided this was all he could take and emptied his blood in the sink.
He should have listened to all the people who loved and supported him,
but with each sip he became more intoxicated and delusional with his sin.

I want glamour.
I want edge.
I need f(r)iction.
Periodic glances.
Poison. Setting.
A dark/darker/darkest of romances.
Intoxicating. Sinking. Sinking. Slow now.
Plucking stars.
In the shadows. Cruel hesitation.
Collections.
Twi(sting).
Plug me in. Bring me down.
Saccharine.

She measures self worth in numbers -
Numbers like the seven he gave her last night,
Scribbled on a coffee shop napkin.
She's like a butterfly, you see;
Wondrous on the outside
But blank within
Fluid, without shape or body or mind -
No spine.
She is whatever words are thrown her way.
She is numbers,
A simple code, a formula,
To which the answer will always be
"I'll see you at eight," or
"Call me," or sometimes just "Yes."
Easy.
She's shapeless conformity,
And when she wakes up someplace new,
She counts the numbers down:
Five, Four, Three, Two -
One time she had her own edges,
But that's neither here nor there, really.
Yesterday, she was seven digits,
But today, for now,
She's zero.

I told you all I could without giving away the secret
And now you're ready to hear
You've always had it inside you
Just let it out

Don't worry if they won't follow you into the dark
It's clearer to walk
If the path is free
Of resistance
And terrible things
And the people who put them in your way

Everything is blossoming
And everything is blistering

There in the meadow
Of the stranger
I had found a moment
Of peace and tranquility
A ******* fox
And a hog
Fighting in the brush

The fox has teeth
But the hog has tusks

It was then I had realized
why people listened to sad songs
stayed up all night waiting for late replies
they would get insecure when they see their person with another
how their world would stop when they see them
would get the butterflies whenever their lips touched
their day incomplete when they don't see each other
couldn't sleep when a big argument comes up
but become lovers again the very next day
how down they would be if they can't cheer them up
get all giddy when they hold hands
smiling like a fool when a thought of them comes up
how their life is complete when they are together
it was then I noticed
this silly and delirious emotions
are the great effect of loving someone

i'll find my way back to you late a night
using three thousand words
with all the meaning in the world
pressed in
meaning nothing at all
without the actions behind them
let the actions be my driving force
i want actions, not words

Fairness: could, should, did -- retaliate

I hope you have someone's hand to hold when you need to feel the sky
Even if it is your own
Hands clasped in prayer
Your hands are clasped in something greater

And when loneliness gnaws
Let it sit
In the corner by itself
The fireplace in a warm embrace
Only has room for your glow

Do not take out that old photograph
Nothing happens for a reason but the
reasons we give it will suffice

And do not say the best has come and gone
Our lives do not balance on the razor's edge of self-pity
The old photograph will fade and take faces with it
But the ones we take today still glossy and drenched in sweetness
Hold close by in your heart

Maybe make a little room too
The scrapbook with pressed flowers still not full
The ones you haven't taken are the
prettiest ones yet