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.

Clear off the bed
and come lie next to me
or lie with me
or crawl under these sheets
and die with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clear out your mind
and sink down low with me
or get high with me
or hold my hand
and lose some time with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean up your act
and fall apart with me
or fall, apart from me
or fall, a part of me
and take some time to cry with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean out your car
and run away with me
or run to me
or put it in reverse
and go back to the start with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Cleanse your spirit
and embrace this pain with me
or brace for pain with me
or take a moment to put me back together
and just be with me, with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could still get used to this

While this new fire burns,
casts its light on your face,
I will learn every crease,
every worry tucked within.
And what of your hands,
what of these knuckles,
large and calloused pearls
that never knew the sea;
why this salt on my tongue-tip
the quiver of tidal currents
carried through you and so
into me. I would have it all
to be sweet, to be dear,
while this new fire burns.

I trace my dedication
       to you
with a fingernail pen,
delighting at the way
the pale inscription
       on you
blossoms with breath.
Anyone else would
blush at this verse
       but you;
I am never more a poet
than in these moments,
       with you:
this casual meter
       between us
built of shivering.

As the sun rises
And the world comes alive
I can't but help breathe a sigh

Everything that was once dormant is now lively
Dark turns light
The cold embrace is slowly letting It's grip go
And the blood in my veins begins to flow

The darkness held me captive for too long
I lost my strength, I no longer feel strong.
But I will surely continue to go on

Going through the country,
to end up by the sea
Winding down the back roads,
over bridges under trees
I have got to find the shoreline,
I need to shift some sand
There's too much time being built up,
and its slipping trough our hands

Less is more, More or less

Looking at the islands,
and dreaming of beyond
Underneath the oceans,
so much we don't yet know
But I'm happy with the present,
the sun the moon the stars
Everything around us,
feel it in your heart

Less is more, more or less
I'm going way out west

I broke away from the town
The empty streets there were bringing me down
I'm stepping back, to reassess
Follow the sunshine as it sinks into the west

I waited for this day to come
I looked around I knew that this was the one
It feels so right, It can't be wrong
Don't sleep too late or the magic will be gone

Drive into the sun and let tomorrow come
Drive into the sun until the day is one

I turned around I'm looking back
I see the distance I have come from the pack
I ask myself, what will I miss
If I stay away I will always reminisce

I'm a wreck
I can't be alone
Yet it's all that I want sometimes

I break
So fast and so swiftly
I'll take no one with me
And yet I am wishing
Someone would save me

This time I won't lift you
With my slow and shaking hands
It's imperfect, yet wonderful still
The feeling of living for myself
And not you

I've tried to conform
So many times before
I've failed again and again

They'll love you for the moment
Then throw you back where you began

This time I won't lift you
With my slow and shaking hands
It's imperfect, yet wonderful still
The feeling of living for myself
And not you

We're so beautiful
When we're wasting away
We're so precious
When we're broken

And I pray
This won't take me from you
And I'll stay
Stay right here in loo of it all

This time I won't lift you
With my slow and shaking hands
It's imperfect, yet wonderful still
The feeling of living for myself
And not you

This time I won't lift you
With my slow and shaking hands
It's imperfect, yet wonderful still
The feeling of living for myself
And not you
Not him, not them
Just me