Words
They're all I've got
I made a present out of them
For a girl
She said, "Thanks"
That's all I got.

Words
Are better left unspoken
When you're a man
A small man
Without any wits
Or money.

Words
Betray my better sense
Leave morals out
Even when I don't want
To hurt everything
That lives

Words
Are a poor currency
You can't trade them
For anything but words
Which make terrible
Sandwiches

Words
Will be the last thing I have
When I'm old and feeble
But I'm feeble now
And my words are
Old

When I breathe,
You breathe.

As I sit by this angry fire,
I am at war and at peace.

Your face lingers,
Like dust on a bookshelf,
Like the stench of old cologne,
But I am no longer consumed by it.

My overwhelming desire,
Is a distant memory.
You restructured my being,
A living-lifeless paradox.

Your laugh melted my walls,
And your eyes were magic stones.
Your lips were soft as snowflakes,
And sometimes just as cold.

Every now and again,
I'm swarmed by memories of you.
They no longer bring me anguish,
Or unbearable tear-filled dreams,
But proof that we were real.
And we always will be.

Your favorite color is green,
You know this to be true.
But what if the color green,
Is actually deep blue?

You like the smell of spring,
Warm sunshine and new life.
But what if spring for someone else,
Is filled with worry and strife.

Your childhood was full,
Of hope and love and dreams.
But some child in a far off place,
Knew only his mothers screams.

The sky is blue for you my dear,
I know this to be right.
You're young, foolish and lost,
You live in pools of light.

Please understand that life is bliss,
Not through ignorance or greed.
The life we live is hit or miss,
And no one breathes for free.

sometimes I feel like all that's
left of me is a lingering headache,
like all I am is short periods of
consciousness punctured by long lots of
sleep,
floating static below the ice
whilst everyone else ambles on,
above.

sometimes I feel like I've never
even touched the air.

like I'm just pretending to
breathe.

slept* in,
                                                           again
                                     whilst the skies,                          patchwork and
                                                             ­        endlessly spinning
                                             amidst autumn air
                                                             ­                                                   with
         ­                                                                 ­              th
                                                ­                                     e moon,
                                                         ­                         the moo n,
                                                              ­                      the mo
                                                              ­                                   on,

                                                          h­
                                                         a
                                                          n
   ­                                                      g
                                                           i
                                                            n
 ­                                                              g
                                                        *  so
                                                    fragile* in
                                                 the         sky,                  a
                                         ­         sin     gle
                                                   drop of
                                                         ink

I miss the cold nights
Laying in the vacant bed
Of *** stained sheets
Staring at the moon through the window
I miss the way I slept
In every part of my room
Like a rock in the desert
Falling off the side of the sand dune blankets
I miss the rants of my insanity
The psychotic lullaby of the moon
Calling down onto me
To hunt a victim of purity
Plague them with the emptiness of insanity
I MISS ME
The old me
Of no heart and soul
No regret from anything he did
But now I have me
The man I wish I never was
Because I have nothing to offer her
And I know I love her
I know she loves me
But what am I to do
When I have nothing left of even me
I miss me
He always knew what to do
Oh well she fell in love with me
Not the old me
And I will do whatever it takes
To give her what she truly deserves
I miss me...because the I'm incomplete
Without her next to me