You're riding in a car
with a strange boy.
His hands are on the wheel
while yours are shaking.

You're driving through time
with your heart right next to you.
His eyes are the bluest blue
and they mirror your thoughts.

You're sleeping with eyes wide-open;
your dreams become reality.
His hair halos in the sun; makes you wonder
what could possibly come from this.

I was driving in a car with a strange boy;
with my heart by my side;
in a sleepless dream;
wondering what could be,
but it was clear
that you were not made for me.

I am not good.
I am not good
at this thing
- we call it Life.

I wish I could
stop dreaming
this big.
But I shall not.

I wish I could
explore the souls
of all who exist(ed).
But I can not.

I wish I could
make you out
of clay and feathers.
But I will not.

For I am a dreamer of impossibilities.
and I am merely one natural girl.
For you are one of my improbabilities,
and there you are
- my untainted pearl;
my gift from an invaded world.

So, I may not be good,
but I feel that is better.

I was looking
for you
in the eyes of another.
You weren't there.

Still I went back.

I spoke of you
to his dreams
as he drunk of your water.
You weren't there.

Still I went back.

I felt the roughness
of your touch
in his kiss.
Soon it exploded.

Still I went back.

You were never there.
You never came back.
You were always fading.
But still I went back.

For you will never leave
for you are always here.

it starts slowly.
drip. drip. drip.
cells stand in line.
drip. drip. drip.
thoughts pack their things.
drip. drip. drip.
air collects its children.
drip. drip. drip.

the opening in front them,
like a gaping wound,
beckons and gleams.

cells, thoughts, air
stumble against
the throngs of others.

it stops slowly.
drip. drip. drip.
cells leave their line.
drip. drip. drip.
thoughts lose their luggage.
drip. drip. drip.
air abandons its children.
drip. drip. drip.

There hangs a cross
in my room,
of wire, shoe polish,
and of you.

A heavenly sign
sent from above,
it brought life and
it brought love.

There hangs a cross
in my room,
of wire, shoe polish,
and of you.

An ungodly sign
with a history of blood
that now brings death and
now brings a grudge.

It was lily white
on the darkest black,
as we slept,
intertwined.

It was lily white
covering the darkest black,
when you saw my
deepest inside.

It was lily white
piercing the darkest black,
as your mouth
touch my thigh.

It is the darkest black
drowning lily white
when my thoughts turn
to whoever is kissing you.