The possibility of you
Beckons to me
In a voice like amber

I am a butterfly
caught in barbed wire.

You were the most beautiful thorn!
I had ever seen.
I knew exactly
what I was doing,
what I was getting into.
Because I was into you,
falling onto you.

And you're still beautiful
except for this red spot
where my body leaks onto you
Infecting you with me
and part of me is sorry
that I let you hurt me.

I guess now isn't our time.
Maybe in two years
we'll figure something out.

And so what
if I'll throw myself at strangers
until I forget
that you're not mine.

And so what
I haven't stopped smoking
since we didn't say goodbye.
I'll stay high
until I forget
that I'm not yours.

And so what
I cried Thursday night.
I dried my face
and got myself home.
Maybe I'll cry a few more times
until I forget
that we were almost us.

And so what
my heart's a little cracked;
I'll forget.

you and I weren’t made for hotel room suites,
for red carpet walks or night clubs so loud
that we can’t hear our heartbeats.
you and I were made for ****** apartments
and even crappier coffee, for slow walks
hand in hand through fast paced New York City.
we’ll see things from the ground up,
perhaps it’s better that way.
no matter what happens, I hope that you’ll stay.

she has planets in her eyes
and dreams of unseen lands.
the tattoos across her body
a map of the places she’s been.
she could go anywhere,
but she longs to go to space.
she’ll do it with rainbow hair,
laughter in her heart,
and a smile on her face.

two years later, I can finally
listen to our songs without
thinking about us singing them.
that's what they call progress.

I'm sitting here staring at an empty space
It's not that I don't have things to fill it with
In fact, I have an abundance of things
Thoughts, memories, hopes
But they're all jumbled together
Tangled, like poorly stored necklaces
The chains wrapped tightly around each other
Almost impossible to separate

I could take everything out
Place it all out on a table
Try to gently detach each piece of myself
The problem with that, though
Is that more than a few of those baubles and chains
Were never meant to see daylight
I don't want to reveal the tarnished and rusting metal
The cracked glass pendants
And the lockets never meant to be opened again
Some things are to stay forever
Stored away in the darkest corners of my mind
I have a box on a dusty shelf there
Where they live

I guess I should look for a flashlight
So maybe I can try to sort out the better pieces
I know there must be some treasures there
Maybe I'm just hoping I might have something good left
I don't want to face the possibility
Of finding nothing but debris
Tattered trinkets on a dusty shelf
In the back of a damaged mind

you can pretend that you don’t know me,
but your behavior won’t reverse what
the month of April was like.
truthfully, I don’t care if what she told you
made things different, as long as
you stop treating me like ****.

and I have this craving
for something I can't touch.

Cities and people and 3000 miles
and this cold ache in my muscles.

Did I forget to mention
that I need you?
You forgot to mention
that you need me too.

And I guess time wasn't on our side
assuming, of course,
that your side is mine.