I smoke my cigarette
And you ask me for a drag
I try to pass it to you
But I can't move.

It's only a dream
No not a dream
But a nightmare
Only one I created.

I smoke my cigarette
You ask for a drag
But I turn to you
And you're gone.

I am unsure of most things
    Like the number of marbles in the jar
       Or which letters are in my soup
          Or how many words are in a book

But I am sure of some things
    Like the color blue in the sky
       And that darkness comes at night
          And that there’s blood in my veins

I am unsure of most things
    Like the names of all that have died
       Or where my dreams come from
          Or how to ride that stupid bike

But I am sure of some things
    Like the space next to me in my bed
       And that the clock is still ticking
          And that Time refuses to let you go

Autumn leaves falling,
Trees burn stories of the sun—
Pages from heaven.

Greatest gift from her,
Subtle hint— love's beginning,
Bright gleam in her eyes.

Darkness dies again,
Birds calling from bright blue skies,
  .  .  .  After sun rises.

Distance between us,
Countless tearing silences—
Loudest words unsaid.

I captured my joy,
And boxed myself into dream,
  .  .  .  First photos of us.

She appears at night,
What conversations we have,
Speaking to myself.