When I look back on what I used to be,
how I used to see,
and when you were with me.
I get a confused nostalgic feeling,
of when we were together,
and I realize why I am still healing,
after the stormy weather.
I recall how I saw you in such bright light,
how I thought of you as downright stunning,
despite every word turning to a fight,
which put me on the road to running.
The mind is a fickle thing,
how it conceives pain to be love,
it overlooks every sting,
as a good sign from above.
As always, after the initial shot,
the shot which fills your head with life,
wears off as things get hot,
as I was stabbed with that searing knife.
For I was not expecting a shank,
right in your gut, or heart, or wherever,
but as you realize, your heart sank,
as you watch the ties sever.
Luckily, the mind is strong,
and with the help of love,
I will go on.

Here I am just sitting with you,
looking at the sky as everything turns blue,
What should we do? What should I do?
With you.
We take a drive in your car,
we won't plan on going far,
but we are, and here we are.
A million miles away in this old, beat up car.
You've always been my pretty young wife,
yeah, sure, it caused some strife,
standing on the edge of a knife,
but isn't that the meaning of life?

The humid incumbency of my bed is overwhelming; it doesn't help to have your arm on me.
Warm, moist and overwhelming due to the slightest temperature change; which is complimented by the staunch smell of sweat.
I am awake, barely,  as the sun slowly introduces dawn to this uncharacteristic heat.
I have something to do, somewhere to be, but the warmth is containing me.
I think about a number of things, predominantly this woman lying here,
one who I am meant to love, hold high and above; yet I fear.
The room characteristically describers her overwhelming temper,
hushed, surrounding, weakening; as it layers over your mind,
seducing it until you become blind.
As these realizations drip upon me like my sweat drips off my nose,
continuous, subtle, and not enough to wipe away,
yet, bothersome enough to impose.
So as I lie here, sweating, stinking and sweltering; I wonder how long?
How long until my sweat will drown me.

I didn't learn much from her,
except what not to love, and to love travel.
It's too bad she wasn't worth the trip.

I knew I was in love; when you told me someone was above,
and I believed you.
I knew I was in love; when you woke me up for a walk,
and I went on the walk.
I knew I was in love; when you first yelled at me,
and I apologized.
I knew I was in love; when you said that you would be leaving,
but you did stay,
just in another way.

Let me tie my own noose please,
for I know how I like it,
tied with what I call a tease,
and a loop as a ***.
For this is what hangs me,
not my failed work,
but my growing inhibitions.
And as I try to fix my sin,
and stop all repercussions,
my inner self pulls a grin,
and I find myself wiht a concussion.
I don't know where I am,
I don't know how I got here,
but there I am, in a jam,
with a woman biting my ear.
It isn't as if I don't try to have control,
for a perfect set of gifts is not my only goal,
but the simple distraction,
has caused me to faction,
debating over my hearts contraction,
while my body only looks for action.
So what can I do? With these corrupt counterparts,
working together, to tear us apart?
I can merely succumb to my soul,
as I don't have the strength to fight my bodies control.

*******, you stupid *****,
you took my heart, and threw it in a ditch.
You didn't care as you said you loved me,
as it shows in the way in which you got up to flee.
Running like a coward; no thought of repercussions,
only thinking of yourself; avoiding all discussions.
So as you go off and you **** everything that will move,
torturing yourself, thinking you have something to prove.
But you don't, and that is where went off-key with this song,
and with each different guy you lose a brand new thong,
because you believe *** is love and that is where you are wrong.

For I can find a ***** in fifth street,
and **** her until she forgets her name,
but doing so is not any feat,
as she has seen millions of men as they came.
Do you think she loves each man who throws her a bone?
Do you think she cares for his heartfelt confessions?
or do you not recognize that she is living her life alone.
These are business sessions; as she is the object that is sold at the concessions.
So respect yourself and learn what love is, as you will soon find, it is more than being just his.
For love is what will set you free,
and the only thing to make you consistently happy,
and you can love and loss and again learn to love,
and your broken wings will help you fly above,
and sooner or later, when push comes to shove,
you will learn, that *** isn't love.