I like you.
Or at least I like who I am when I'm with you.
When I look into your eyes,
I'm on a different planet.
I've always liked you...
Even before everyone else did.
I still do...
And I don't know if its worse if you know,
Or worse if you don't.

Supersonic Skydive
Tell me, what's your helmet like?
Can you hear the roar of breaking
barriers of sound?
Or is it silent in your dome
Have they built you like a home
A cradle for the jumping few
Who chose to do as daring do?
Supersonic Skydive,
Tell me, what's the view there like?
Can you see the rounding planet
Arching back in every stretch?
And do the stars look different here
Beyond the blinking atmosphere,
And when you rushing, sink away,
When do you find the blue of day?
Supersonic Skydive
So lucky to be so alive
And as you plummet to the ground,
Tell me, do you look up, or down?

I am loud,
Demanding attention.
I know when I am being charming
Because I try.
I put on my impressing face
And do my impressing hair
And speak my impressing words.
I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories
And everything else about me
That you probably shouldn’t know.

I am not good at being quiet
Because that’s not who I am.
I am not the sweet girl
Who will leave you with a smile
And a touch
And a glance
Or a single word.
There is nothing of this fashion of romance
About me.

I am the girl who will point out your flaws,
And take you outside to see the stars,
And remind you how human you are,
And what a wonderful thing that is.

I am the girl who will talk about science,
And music and theology and history,
And point out constellations, laughing,
When you don’t know the big dipper’s name.

I am the girl who will make witty references,
To classic literature and science fiction,
And will tell you stories of how I once,
Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse.

I am the girl who will stand on a table,
And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway,
And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor,
Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point.

I am the girl who takes too many shots
And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver,
And knows all the right places to bite, and tease,
And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk.

I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind.
I am not a thing hard to capture.
You would not spend a perilous journey
Through a wild, perfumed jungle,
Searching for my slender garments
Hung beside a pool
As I wail to the breeze.

Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead
Making too much noise
Distracting from the trail ahead.
A bird whose plumage proves
What an interesting life it must be…
What a colorful life for me…
Perpetually strange
The lone comic relief.

I am many things.
But I am not quiet.
Of this I am sure.

Sometimes I forget to breathe
I forget that I am real
And not just living in make-believe
I’m here and on this earth
Stagnant, lying
In the up and in-between
Away from where you are
I can stay hidden, unseen

Sometimes I forget to open my eyes
I forget that I’m only dreaming
I wish that this life were only lies
And not the constant haunting I’ve been fearing
If I fall I won’t feel it
If I die I’ll be alright
Because I was never really living

I wish that my fantasy lasted forever
Went on and into infinity
But that’s a silly thing to want
For without pain we never feel
And with out boredom we never feel excitement
I grow impatient with wondering
If I’m really here at all
If I speak will any one even hear?

Sometimes I forget to breathe
If I do please shake me
I’d hate to die in your arms
Such a predictable way to go
Sometimes I forget to scream
When the pressure builds
When I feel sick and frightened
No, I’ll never forget what he did
But I’ll always forget to speak.

Today I walked in from work
Making my way throught the strange and quiet house.
I couldn't understand when I walked into my room and saw you snuggled in my blanket
My bed has never looked so warm and so inviting
Your red hair spilling all over the pillows
Cascading into the shadow
I laid down fully dressed
Laying there in a dream
You are evreything that I will ever need
My best friend
pocketwatch
rain cloud
kissing booth

So strange to see your lips agian
Pursed and perfect
Red stained Beautiful

All so warm and simple
Not like the others
Her whole life is sweet and gentle

You can watch the parts of my life you touch
Turn away from the stoney lonesome
Your vines, your ivy, sweet smelling flowers
Wearing angel soft petals bloom in the pale moon

So what is left for me?
What more do I need?
I have my "Shelter from the Storm"

So
a long tired kiss is in order
on sleeping lips
soft and unkowing

Curling up in the warmth next to her
The flower wrapping her warm petals about me
I need nothing else in this world
As I begin to drift off into sleep so complete
A rustling on the bed beside me
Warm lips touch my ear
I hear her breathe "thank you"
and like that she left me there

I wake up alone
On this old couch
Sunlight creeping in through the broken blinds
In this trash apartment
In this nowhere town
Sober

Its not always so great to live alone
I wish I could be with you
Just talk and share a bowl of cereal
Refrigerator magnets
Pictures on your wall

Sometimes I wish I didn't have to come home
and sit alone

I bet even t.v would be better with you

I bet things wouldn't be so dull
If I heard just a moment of your laughter
Echoing off the walls

Lights would shine brighter
Even the lightbulbs would glow like el sol

Make dinner
Listen to music

I would turn down the t.v
So I could better hear you singing in the shower
I wouldn't mind vacuming
If your feet walked my floor
I would sit like a child
Underneath the lights on the vanity
As you brush your red hair
And make jokes about whatever we want

But you aren't here and you never will be

So instead "Ill get smashed on southern comfort"