So...I asked this girl out on a date
No money had I made of late
With no job prospects for quite a while

Had her drop me off at the grocery
Proceeded to stuff sardines down my jeans
We were going to picnic it up in style

The whole time I had security
Keeping a watchful eye on me
Nabbed me as I stepped out of the door

Even grabbed the girl who was my date
She might have made a grave mistake
They say she was driving the get away car

We went before the hanging judge
Who wasn't much into showing love
Gave us each thirty days in county

I convinced them she was the master mind
I was a fool in love, didn't deserve the time
So they locked her up and set me free

Though it was our first date
And didn't seem to go the way
That it was I had it planed

I think that when she gets out of jail
And if she doesn't look like hell
I just might ask her out again...

there are a lot of things
that are missing from my life
many of them
left badly
like a mother
brothers and sisters
and Daniel...

...i don't have words
to describe you,
Dan.
and i cannot
even write a poem
saying that you died
because to me
you haven't
some little part of me believes
that you are still here somewhere
and that is what keeps me
from breaking into little shards
that cut everything
they touch
you are somewhere
on your red motorcycle
with your bone-crushing hugs
still drinking and doing drugs
and smiling, smiling, smiling
even though
they say that is what killed you
i don't mind the ****.
i really don't.
i liked your heart
too much
to believe
you were evil.
you weren't.
and despite what some might say
i think you are in heaven
if only for the reason you were sent
to prison
ask jesus
to hug you for me, Dan
jesus knows
a righteous man.

I cannot say that I write about you
because we are in love,
because you died,  or because you broke my heart;
moths unravel those possibilities like yarn.

You are picked up by fairies,
a powder, the scent discharged by dryer sheets.

To be honest,
I write about you because you did the same to me;
you had me in the crook of your arm,
a dusty novel composed by
southerners, although only read in the north.

I cannot say that I write about you
at all, these verses are not about your existence
but how you could have
opened the world as if it were a book of mine.

I am pretty sure my love will be leaving me soon
for a woman whose skirt does not lift in the zephyr of her sadness:
we kiss and we tie
maraschino cherry stems with our tongues. The
same labyrinth puts rosy skin in our teeth, here is his ***** hair
knotted with saliva. When I think I have everything,
it just means that we are stuck together –
I realize it does not mean that we are happy together. I think
someone poisoned the water
with glue, and it is I who dispenses more to let my love escape me.
He is as happy as a child who has finished a puzzle
except for a single missing piece, repeating the movements
again and again. That has got to bring it back.
For seven months, we have been handed the gift of pretending I
can feel the inner-workings of who he is and why he is
and I am pretty sure he knows he never has
to pretend again. It is there in the silences: across the room,
across the ocean where hundreds of babies have died,
babes with mothers and fathers and parents who weren’t divorced.
All I hear is my love toying with a Rubik’s cube
he never learned to complete. I have a Magic 8 ball saying
I should let him go. I mostly worry about telling my mom, who will
tell my therapist and then we will have to
close too many doors. As long as I am sad, they are locked. A
key is stuck in the mud or in someone’s molars –
my room is empty, the air is quiet, and he has not even left me yet.

I was the girl from the woods,
The one that didn't hide under a hood.

I saw his face, the boy with no fairy,
When his came to him, he was so merry.

But I knew that he was bound to something besides me,
I knew that as soon as I saw him head to The Great Deku Tree.

Before I knew it, he was crossing that bridge,
I knew that we would be forever seperated by that ridge.

When he left I tried so hard to forget,
My feelings towards him, and that we never met.

But he found me one day, in my place of peace,
He had a sword and a Hylian shield, He wore dark green fleece.

We played our ocarinas, and made our own song,
We could call each other if anything went wrong, and it kept me strong.

7 years passed.. he became the hero he was ment to be,
And it was on that day that he forgot about me.

He stood there with Princess Zelda, they gazed into each others eyes,
Everytime I think of it, apart of me dies.

I've spent nights trying to forget my feelings,
But all I can see is my tree trunk ceiling.

You deserve Zelda over me,
There can't be three.

I want you to be happy with Zelda, this is my choice,
If thats the thing that will make you rejoice.

I will be waiting, and maybe someday we will be,
My name is Saria.. Please Link.. don't forget about me.

The pink roses are turning black
They crumble to the ground
They shattered like a skyscraper
In an abandoned city
Our love shattered darling
Pick up the broken pieces
Because I'd rather have cracks
Then drift off in a broken city