Perhaps the shore secretly awaits the ocean's return,
prays to the stars that the waves will not give up.
She begs him to return because in that brief moment,
he is able to wash away her past.

So many people walk all over her,
taking what they like, disregarding what they don't,
but when he comes back, she is left with a clean slate.
Momentarily, she can forget her imperfections
because he is all she knows.

And when he leaves,
he leaves with an unspoken promise that he'll return.

When you galloped into my life on your valiant steed,
Proudly announcing your arrival,
I was not swept off my feet.

No, they had long since been buried in cement.
For fear of tripping, I guess.
Fear of falling?
Fear of hitting the ground.

And as for my breath,
I simply had none left.
None to be taken or held.
Stolen or caught.
None to be wasted.

But this is not a poem about my past.
This is not one more memento of mistakes and heartaches.
No, this is me thinking about the future for once.

This is about love.

At least, it has the potential to be.

You have faded into yourself.

You used to be the boy with your eyes too wide
and your hair swept ever so slightly to the side.
You really caught my eye.

If we ever landed in the same room
(by what I used to believe was luck),
you would not go unnoticed.
No, sir.
Not by this girl, not by your best friend
who could always find the words to make you smile,
but never the voice to make you feel.
Not by me.

See, I was born an observer, and you...

You strut when you walk.
You like your boots bruised.
You'd rather spit sunflower seeds
into a can than a bottle.
And you always manage to find the girls
who aren't sure they have a place.

You are a sight for tired eyes.
Every boy-crazy, bright-eyed girl
who crosses your path would agree,

But it didn't take long for me to realize...
that you were fading into yourself.

It didn't take long for me to see through
the glimmer in your glance and the temptation in your smile.
I started to see a different person
when I watched you for awhile.

When a smile
became a mask for words,
and words simply filled empty space.
When I was confident that no one saw a scrap of fear
behind my pale and practiced face.

You became the center of attention.
You became the center of a whole lot of tension...

Though my strengths were questioned by none,
my weaknesses were discovered by one.

Those moments when I felt alone
are the times it appeared to be
that the whole time I was observing you,
you were seeing me.

It happens when you walk by
And you hardly glance my way.
It happens when my friends talk about you
And I can think of nothing to say.
It happens every time our eyes
Accidentally meet.
It happens whenever someone else
Tells me something sweet.

Those are the moments that are hardest,
When I get a second glance,
Because it’s those moments that I realize...
You aren’t worth a second chance.

They ask me why a bird can fly,
And why I choose to dance.
Why is blue the color of the sky?
Why are my socks outside of my pants?

I simply answer
With a smile and a wink.
I start a war
To make them think.


So ask me why my ice is hot
  
          You say "Why?"
          I say "Why not?"

They ask me why a bird can fly,
And why I choose to dance.
Why is blue the color of the sky?
Why are my socks outside of my pants?

I simply answer
With a smile and a wink.
I start a war
To make them think.


So ask me why my ice is hot
  
          You say "Why?"
          I say "Why not?"

Do I consider myself a writer?
Well, I'll try to make you see.
Do you consider yourself to fit
In one specific category?

So yes, I am a writer.
I'm an artist with a pen.
I'm a dreamer, I'm a believer.
Just as many before have been.

Wishful thinking may get you nowhere
Except for pages on a shelf.
So, I let the words control me
Until the words become myself.

Happily ever afters,
Magic lamps and crystal *****.
All your trust and hopes
Depend on mirrors on the walls.

In ink drops on a paper,
I've found I can pretend
To be anything I want to be.
So, I'll be fearless 'til the end.

Princess lonely, broken maiden,
Any mask that I sketch out.
Fearless leader, wicked enchantress,
But the best beyond a doubt.

Why, yes, I am a writer,
Because my limit is not there.
In fact, I may be lying now,
But I doubt that you would care.