i) when jasey left you called me over and we hid under your duvet while your heart broke into little pieces with frank sinatra playing in the background. "I guess some things just can't be fixed, huh" you mumbled, and I held you while we sat on your rooftop hurtling your aching heart into the night sky. That was the first time I saw your entire being crumble, the first time I saw tremors shoot down your back as your chest caved in, the first time I saw your hands tremble around the neck of the ***** bottle you stole from your dad. You fell asleep in my lap that night, cheeks sanguine and burning from the alcohol and usually I think about the stars when it's that late but at 3 in the morning all I could think about was why anyone would want to leave somebody like you.

ii) two weeks later, it rained so heavily I thought the windows were going to break and so I called you up to say the clouds were angry with jasey for breaking your heart. Then I turned my phone off, curled up in bed with my favorite sweater; eyes closed, fists clenched, warm heart and cheap wine. I knew you would never love me the way you loved her, and I was trying to be okay with that.

iii) on Tuesday, we hung out by the park, and the benches were cold but your hands were warm so I didn't mind at all when you slid them up my satin blouse, or when your lips pressed themselves against mine, weaving in and out like tapestry. At that moment, you were the sun, and every inch of skin you touched seemed to burn, but I didn't really care until I felt you crumple into me; your body convulsing with heartache, salt water gushing down my chest. "I still love her," you said, and I just lay there, bare back on damp grass, looking up into the darkness, wondering if love was supposed to make our hearts hurt this bad.

Who holds this life
Who holds its secrets
All in the palm of his hand

Who holds the promise
Whenever you need it
Who includes you in their plans

Who is the light
That shines in the darkness
Who always comes out on top

Who set the plain line
And knows where to mark it
Who invites you all along

Who is the up
When life is down
Who is the champion for the right

Who is the best
To come around
When things get hard in this life

Who is the Christ
Who is the Savior
Who lives in the believers heart

Who gives his all
In sacrifice
And loves you for who you are

I just started my new job
As the handyman in the land of OZ
Seems things haven't been going the same
Since the Wizard up and left that day

First off is that house from Kansas
The one that fell on the Witch of the East
There's no way the Munchkins can move it
So we're going to renovate it right there on the side of the street

And turn it into a Bed & Breakfast
Where all the Good Witches can relax and stay
Then they all won't be so apt to
Commandeer a sphere and float away

After that I'll need to buy some silver paint
As the Tin Man is looking rather dull these days
And while I'm at it might as well, some yellow and green
To give the road and OZ a brand new sheen

And since the Witch of the West has been put to rest
I have all the Flying Monkey helpers I can use
As my professional skills will be put to the test
Giving her dingy castle a good ole OZ spruce

I wonder why they've never had someone before
Oh yea, I've also gotta fix that Knocker on the front door
There are so many things that need to be done
Me being the new Handy Man in the land of OZ

i've dreamt of you
since we last met

there
in the mirror
in all your raging glory

pleasure, and freedom
and every other thing beautiful
this is the nature of you

naked, you are my Alabama nights
and my every blue sky day
you have many stars in your hair
where all good wishes are kept
and so many fields in your eyes
wanton with the dancing flowers

i can only stand here behind you
clothed in the shadows of your light
waiting for your golden dawn to break

oh, to have once loved a true lady
of pleasure, and of freedom
and of every other thing beautiful
and to have shared in her glory

there
in the mirror
i've dreamt of you

Name all the reasons you stayed at the dark hotel without
Wearing those silver rings that never seem to come off your fingers otherwise
What made you want to move south to cold air and a lack of clothing lines?
The lonely roads on the map of out town spell out your name
But I can barely say it and each traffic light blinks out into the city
The way you eyes do when you’re feeling uninspired
I know you haunt bus stops
What did block parties and fairy lights do to make you pack up?
Summer popsicles melted over your legs and left marks that resemble fireflies
We used to catch those in Emery Forest when 2:16 am called but now
I pick up the phone and only grasshoppers chirp
They tell me that you took my light with you and no
Sort of sun will tell you where you need to be but your own.

caged in the kind of eyes that make you think twice about the colour of swollen leaf veins, you're swimming in dangerous waters that could tear apart the metals in your blood. whoever told you that big breakfasts were good for you was not lying, but they did not mean bowls of fear and slices of anger with rebellion spreads, you're swallowing emotions i could easily caress for you but the touch of anything other than ink on your skin is harmful to your blue sensitivity. understand that no one is out to hurt you but the thoughts you've help come out of their raw jails, and understand that there are laws for criminals like these. who doesn't know that you've never been one to follow the system but there are flames under your skin burning colours of the sky so why cant you escape, why cant you escape, why cant you run.

-smiles that leave the sun looking like a light bulb in comparison, and eyes that leave the stars drowning
- sunny bus rides just to see a loved one accompanied with red lights for seconds of peace on the charcoal coloured, bumpy roads but safe travels nonetheless
- spring jackets that feel like home and colours that make the heart swell
- strangers that have the potential to be friends
- the best memories channelled in the back of a mind
- free flowing pens that write like walking on clouds
- sights along the way of flowers blooming
- possibilities of learning new things and new faces and new places
- suitcases that carry homes inside them
- books that carry knowledge, experience and let you feel the burn of new curiosity
- filled cafe spaces, menus, safety
- friendly chatter, scholarly chatter, best friend chatter