Must've known you in a previous life
You were the sun, and I was grass worshipping the sky
Must've known you in a previous life
You were the sea, and I was a cliff worn away by your tide
Must've known you in a previous life
You were a flower, and I was a bee heartbroken by your side

Would've known you in our current lives
Intertwined like vines but never really seeing eye-to eye

When will art die?
Maybe when darkness covers the sky,
Or when we **** each other in atomic war
And our bombs destroy the earth's core
Will art fade away?
When there's nothing left to say,
Will art go out with the sun?
Or be taken away with a gun,
What will be the last song or dance?
Will it end in Kansas, or Paris France?
Who'll make the last painting?
Will they know? Their hands shaking,
Will anyone even cry?
On the day art will die...
But i have to admit,
Seeing the end would be quite a hit,
Second only to the beginning,
When art goes out exploding

My special blanket
It covers my mind

I'm used to my blanket
Like a small child I carry it everywhere

My mind is a dark place
But my blanket makes it not too bad

There was a time it wasn't there
& it was a nice break

But that was just a break
A holiday

Time to get back to work
My blankets in charge

It tells me when to eat, never
It tells me when to sleep, all the time

My blanket used to give me breathing room
But now, its suffocating me

My blankets choking me
& I've stop struggling

My mind has put the blanket in total control
I shut down

I push everyone away
Even the boy I love

I know it kills him
To see me this way

But my blankets my minds dictator
It calls the shots

I love you, I promise
But this blanket will **** me in the end

Like a blanket of snow
My depression covers me

& I've let it win

papa remember when you used to spin stories out of gold thread
the thread that came from your teeth
it wove me a blanket so i could fall soundly asleep
papa remember when late on a summer night
we danced to music that was alive and wafted in the warm breeze like night blooming jasmine
sweet, and crawling up your nose and infecting your head
papa remember when you said you’d call
that was last year
and that same song came back on and I was surprised to find tears sneaking up
on me
burning canals into my cheeks
because you told me goodnight
and never said good morning again
because you left in my god ******
sleep

His hands lie resting avoidant, anxious like trapped dust on top of the shelf waiting to be swept
His eyes turned away looking at the plaster wall as if the wall was his only companion in the room
His smile is hidden from its owner scared of the punishment it may face
His heart is overcomed by all the talking in brain, all the **** thinking like a disease  
His knees bends like a single corner of a shy square
His whistles are often quiet but when frustrated they are balloons getting furiously poked by a needle
His footprints are subtle small occupants of my mind, and he is my everything
Yet if he would be in my heart, his square shyness would not fit in my round heart