all of my dreams have been about kissing you
                                                                         or dying.
it's haunting to know that these two things are what i have been craving most.
even more haunting is the fact that i cannot have both,
                                                                                        i have to choose.
                                          theme
there has been a common             in my life:
                                                                       choices have been
                                                                                                    my downfall.

since i have had this terrifyingly awesome power of choice i have abused it.
i have used it for nothing but personal gain,
                                                                      personal harm.
once i learned of the ability i posses to harm
it has overwhelmed me.
when i cause another grief it haunts me,
                                                                pursues me to my dreams and beyond.

guilt is a motivating factor in my life.
not more so than love,
                            hate.
but it is still powerful.

                                  i am not able to function properly.
                                  i get drunk
                                  i pass out on the couch
                                  i fall asleep with cigarettes burning in my hands
                                  i break my own heart, but watch out
                                  i'll break yours too.

I feel the cold, it penetrates my soul
I look up, the sky is black like my thoughts
I sit and ponder, when will I be whole
All these days for happiness I have fought

People wonder, why are my thoughts so dark
It's a disease for which there is no cure
All this pain, on my soul there is a mark
If it will ever heal, I am not sure

I'm searching for the light, but there is none
My eyes are open and yet I can't see
I reach out for help but there is no one
I call out none hear my desperate plea

I'll keep on living each day feeling lost
Until happy lighted paths have been crossed

The cold distance between two hearts,
Once beating simultaneously, in unison -
A small disconnection,
A simple malfunction,
Unforeseen miscommunication amidst unvanquished certainty -
Muzzled, tightened grip,
Cloaking an angst shell of a body,
Harvesting repressed emotions,
Alluring a passive tongue -
Releasing an outpour of an outcry in an outburst,
Retribution -
Freedom released from with-in,
Healing of a contorted soul...
Commence.

You ask me what it's like to hate a human being.

You're so sweet and innocent and you need to be punched in the face.
You where your cute fall clothing and smile your deceiving smile.
I shove my fists in my pockets and shove my anger down my throat
whenever you speak.
You may have friends but they're as fake as you.
When they push the knife in your back they won't be able to twist it as much as the one twisted in back.
You're just a liar; and I guess I've always known this much is true.

Hating a human being is stepping in a puddle and getting your socks wet.
Hating a human being is having your shoe lace untied in a busy hallway.
Hating a human being is finding your pack of cigarettes empty.
Hating a human being is me thinking about you.

And my body has ceased to act in the way I want it to.
My legs feel like rubber
and it's hard to concentrate
and my fingers move slowly.

But hey,
my constant headache is gone
and all the worries that clouded my mind are gone
and my back isn't sore.

Maybe
three more won't hurt.

I met you tonight.
You smelled nice
and I sat next to
you for two hours.
Sure, there was a
fifteen minute break.
But so what? Your
bangs hung straight
across your forehead
and you skirt lay
loosely around your
thighs. Your sweater
clung to you body
and you clung to my
mind. I know your
name and I know
your face but I know
not you.

It was your first time going to a show and you told me you felt like a white crayon.
It was my thirteenth show and I told you white crayons looked very nice on any color paper but white. So why limit yourself?

You had your legs
crossed and your
foot kept touching
my calf and instead
of recoiling I let it
happen. I talked to
you and when I took
my coat off it flailed
in your face and I
said "I'm sorry, sorry."
And you curled your
mouth into a cute
smile and told me it
was really okay, and
then the show was very
good and how many
have I been to. It's funny
how you're cute and I'm
me and you laughed
when I said stupid
things and I let our
legs touch and I even
held the door open for
you and said "Goodnight,
Lady. See you next Monday."
And you said "Goodnight,
Nolan. If fate wills it,
so it shall be." And we
laughed and I begged fate
to will it.