it was always the jazz music

that soothed me

in the nights of summer.

but it wasn't as good as

the late night conversations

and chamomile tea.

all i can remember now

is that faint smell of

mint perfume;

that made me feel ditzy

midnight thoughts and wasted eyes
waiting for the sun to rise
owls are howling, so depressed
the morning light will be our guest

dosen’t matter if we’re drunk or sober
wasted nights in late october
leaves are floating down to earth
feeling like we’re nothing worth

Still, my sleepy eyes
See you in graceful motion
Memory, not real.

I could sit and ponder,
how much longer
will I have to wait
until I'll see your face...
but I know it won't be forever
though I swear I'd wait that long.
You're the only one who truly sees me.
You make me feel real,
I'm not just an object taking up space
in this world I have a place, in your heart.

The moon will be gone tomorrow
Will fold me over like the pleats on her dress
I could ask one million times to each star in her eyes
And never find an answer
The stars of the night lose their meaning

And the leaves in the forest know it too
Holding onto branches and changing color
They only rustle in the breeze of coldest night
But they don't feel
And the beams cannot help them see

Each ray of light
Is complete dissaray
I only know I felt you near me
In some distant song of memory
About how I lived my dream

And how nothing is as it seems

I touch the side of my face
as I shutdown my life,
my cheek is wet...
I stare straight ahead
as the screen goes black.
I sit for a moment
and cry.

There's a certain kind of silence here.
The profound and total only-in-the-country type of silence that city folk fear.
(The kind that my poor mother back home staves off with television and beer.)

So heavy and complete that even with your head under the sheets it's impossible to keep warm enough to ever get any decent sleep.
It's the kind of silence that pierces dreams.

The kind that a tortured mind can easily fill with demons of every type.
The kind that keeps you on edge all night with wide searching eyes and adrenaline rushes flooding in behind any foreign sound,
followed by a slow winding down of blood pressure and panic and heart beats.

The kind that when you suddenly wake up in it and glance at the alarm clock,
you hope like hell the first number isn't 3.

*

*It's moments like these that make me wish there was somebody else here with me,
if only for the reassurance that a nearby body can bring.
The sound of someone else's steady breathing.

And maybe, a naked back to trace the subtle valleys of while half-asleep,
thinking little epiphanyish-type thoughts that'll be forgotten by morning.
The kind that usually start or end with: "This is it."

It would be great if someone just knocked me out for a couple days and came in
and took care of the problems at my house.
While also, taking me to various doctors for my teeth, and my feet.
And fix my hair, get a cut.
Put some moisture back into my skin.
Buy Christmas presents for everyone in my family.
Pay some debts off.

And I could just wake up and go,
"Oh, swell. Everything is perfectly fine."

But. That's just the stuff I dream about.