We faded like fragments
White bed sheet tales now
We used to smoke like trains

I think I can, I think I can.

Ashed in each others hearts once or twice
But I didn't mind
With the sunlight on your face

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

I crept across the sheets
Looking at you hungrily
Your eyes danced down my back

The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout

We collided without a sound
I watched your lips part
And muffled murmurs were all that escaped

Hush little baby, don't say a word.

But those tales are only tales
And these white sheets are empty now
I don't know why you left me

How I wonder where you are.

But I mourn for you like a dying lover
And while I do,
I long for another, to take your place

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack. All dressed in black, black, black.

Yet no one aside from you,
Has taken the time to look inside
So, slowly, I find myself emptying

Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.

And so I wait. And I remember.

I am the sun & I have only just begun
To understand how to get up
Climb into the sky
Try not to cry
Keep the rain at bay
The way the world needs me to
I have nothing left to do
My bag of tricks are worn to bits
And I'm left, tumbling
I'll fall away,
And night
Replaces me, replaces the day
When I managed to make it up long enough to shine.

If you roam around my house,
              look about,
        up & down,
                           you'll find many paper cranes.

When I feel empty, I make so many,
                     and leave them random places.

You can find them here,
                and there,
          pretty much everywhere,
                              lined up on window panes.

I never felt the need to gather them,
                      and I most likely never will.

If I put them all together,
                 made sure it was forever,
           they could withstand the weather,
                             and there would be a thousand.
              
They say with a thousand cranes,
                       a wish is granted in your favor.

But I have no wishes,
               so I'll sleep with the fishes,
           after my hands tremble to the point of refrain
                                  & I can no longer make anymore paper cranes.

Focus.
  It's how perception alters when the
          overlooked explodes with
                                         prominence.

Stretching this vast expanse of past all along.
Smoking tendrils climbing from my mouth.
I only have one face,
                    Plato was wrong.

And kisses linger, but with time, fade away.
I feel my lungs fill with the entirety of it.
Was I only one,
                     *when sculpted from clay?

I don't know where I'm going.
                             are you drifting from me?


And I know where I would like to be.
                                                   the tide is coming in..


So, this is how it ends.
                      and now the water is at your feet.


Is this what drowning is like?
                                     the ocean is in your eyes, no turning back now..


I'll stand at the shore.
                     *but you are already floatimg away.

A thin sheen of
                  night sky
                                      covers my skin, my
                                                           fingertips,
                                                                ­                    as I run my
                                                              ­                                    hands
Down the literary
                       parts
                                     of what stars wish
                                                            ­ to be...
                                                                ­              something only meant
                                                                ­                                        for you &
                                                                ­                                                    *me

I like a man with fire in his bones
And where his head should be,
There is a home.

And I wax and wane like the moon
If you turn away you might miss me,
I'll be gone soon.

Today you found me candy-
                        coated on the kitchen floor.
A cigarette trembling
                        in between two of my fingers.
You tried to pick me up,
                        but my skin and bones were no more.
Though I'm nearly gone,
                        your idea of me makes me linger.

And when the days turns to dust,
                        I will still be here for you.
We are both broken people,
                        conceived by our own reprieves.
So do not pick me up,
                        just lay with me like you used to.
And hopefully neither of us,
                       will feel the need to leave.

Hey now..
           you weave your fingers...
in my heart strings..

Hey sleepy head?
                                                          ­    Where are you tonight?

Are you standing in the corner?
          Over by the white christmas lights?

                                                        ­                   With a miscellaneous mug,
                                                            ­                                   Stolen from not-your-kitchen cabinet.

Are you not ever tired?
              Do you never sleep?

                                                         ­                                                    And when you do,
                                                                          What could you possibly dream?

                                     Of red and white flowers?
                                                *no

  ­   Of bombs destroying towers?
               no

                                                Of illustrated novels about foxes?
                                                          ­                                           no
Do you dream of anything?
                Or is your soul as empty,
  
                                                                                                    As your eyes seem to be?
                                                             ­                       And when I kiss you,





                            *why do you turn away from me?

Can we pretend for a bit,
                that every day is a bicycle waltz?

That every day is filled,
                filled with wine and whiskey love.

And skin feels like heaven,
               when no one is watching it touched.

That your body & my body,
               will never grow tired of the endlessness of each other's.

Everyday should be a bicycle waltz,
               With you my dear,
                                      *my immeasurable amount of intangible motion.

http://prezi.com/lf50ud2c7bc1/das-universum-ist-aber-eine-frau/

While you were gone,
          I was dreaming fantastic dreams,
                    that make you seem,
             ordinary.

And in these dreams,
                        So it seems,
                             I met the ocean deep below,
      He grabbed me hold and told me he'd never let me go.

Why choose land when you can have the sea?
                        I'm just a summer's breeze
                             Rippling the water occasionally
    But he admired my company (that's enough for me)

So I'm diving into the deep dark blue
                   To the parts of him no one knew
                           Purely encompassed in wavy conversation
    The shivery conversations made of vibrations

*"And I asked myself about the present:
                  how wide it was,  
                                         how deep it was,  
       how much was mine to keep."

"I bet your lips are soft."

Mm.

And there goes everything I've ever known.

Birds will sing, but I don't really feel a thing.

I read something from a long time ago.
And it made me cry.
The thunder outside told me to shut up.
And then I realized it was raining.
But I stopped crying.
Because I'm not supposed to, cry, I mean.
And I grabbed a cigarette.
And my zippo that says lucky on it.
Made of '04.
I love that lighter.
I went outside and lit it.
But I didn't want my mom to come out.
And see how I was.
So I started walking in the rain.
I didn't want my cigarette to get hit by the rain.
So I stuck it underneath my shirt.
And then I walked.
And while I was walking, I tripped.
I accidentally burned my belly button.
How the **** did I manage that.

I'm so stupid

So I walked to the side of the house.
There is a little porch big enough for one.
I finished my cigarette with my eyes closed.
Just listening to the rain.
When it was done, I walked up to the steps.
And I sat down, still getting pelted with water.
I realized I couldn't keep sitting, I was shaking.
So I got up and started walking towards the back of the house.
I walked to the very back, towards the alleyway.
Making sure to drag my feet in the puddles, soaking my pajama pants.
I got to the back gate.
And I started crying again.

You are hopeless, this is hopeless, what are you even doing here?

The thunder told me to shut up again.

You are wasteless

I saw my old trampoline and started jumping on it.
When I was little, I used to sing to the rain.
I would sing good songs, to try and soothe it.
Never sing 'rain rain go away'.
That's makes the rain upset.
And the thunder says to stop.
So I jumped.
And I sang a little bit.
Then I laid down and closed my eyes.
Just got completely soaked, y'know.

You are going to be okay, everything is okay.

Just felt the pitter patter of rain drops on me.
Tried to bury my zippo in my clothes so it wouldn't get wet.
Then I got up, cried a little more.
And I walked back.
I walked back towards the front of the house slowly.

You are going to be okay, everything is okay.

Dragging my feet in puddles.

I miss you Grant, I hate you Sam, and I love you..Well, you know who you are.

Just getting completely soaked.

You are going to be okay, everything is okay.

And I went inside, smiled at my mom.
Went downstairs.
And changed my clothes.
Began getting ready for work.


You are going to be okay, everything is okay.





*You are not okay, everything is not going to be okay.

I'd focus if windows were always
                                                        open,
And doors didn't
                           *exist.

I don't like people. I like red wine & cigarettes.

Crystalline shards, we are what we choose to be..
                                                            ­                            .
                                   ­                                                   .      .
     ­                                                                 ­               f     .                                                                ­                      
                                                                ­                        .   r
                                                               ­                    .   a      .
                                                                ­                           g .
                                                               ­                         m
                                      ­                                               .         e .
                                                               ­                   .  n        t    
                                                                ­                        s  .
                                    ­                                                       .
                                                               ­                       .
                                        ­                                                    .
           ­                                                                 ­        .         .
                                                               ­                           .
                                    ­                                                 .
                                                                ­                         .
                                                               ­                       .I'll  .
                                                        ­                        end up in      .
                                                       ­                     crumpled heap
                                                                ­     .  .   at my own feet.. ..

The world is lonely while they cry for help and
                    they reach their hands up.
In words, in books, in paintings,
                    they portray their loneliness hidden or blatant.
But even that isn't enough to highlight
                    the lowlights of our lives
It's in our blood, it's in our veins, our bones,
                    it's in the cigarettes that we smoke.
Which fills the air and wails out loud,
                    screaming a symphony of isolation.
It's hidden in the corners of the cities,
                     hidden in the tall green grass of the countryside
It's everywhere you look, in famous words,
                     in ancient books.
It fills your mind, it takes you hold, it's in the tiniest key hole,
                     but enough.
It's enough to spark a burning fire, to long for another's touch,
                     to feel desire
From another human being,
                     to share in what is the only thing worth keeping
Human company. We long, we dream, we scream for it,
                     and we hope it favors us too.
It's overwhelming, it makes me, it makes me long
                     like so many others
We are not alone in our loneliness
                     and what a queer thought that is

*“Wir können uns einreden, dass wir mit einem Buch nicht allein sind, wie wir uns einreden können, dass wir mit einem Menschen nicht allein sind.”

I wait for cigs to appear in a tiny tea can
I buy things I don't need, not out of greed
He gets off late at night, quite near three
I'm not good at loving anybody, any man,
Anything

Why must I love the poets, the painters, the piano players?

I dilute, I digress, as he touches my chest
Soft permeating whispers of spurious love
Pretending for a reason to reach this octave
I'm somewhere distant, somewhere I can rest
A mess

Are artists meant to be with artists? Do they bring out in each other what is darkest?

He lies tired, I wide awake with moon eyes
I curl my ivory back to his kisses and fingers
My cold heart does nothing but shiver
This is a sad type of a music, reprise after reprise
I sometimes cry

And I can't get close, cause I can't relate.
No brain train is the same,
but mines off the rails and no one knows what it's like to ride,
******* great,
*this is why I don't date.

In so doing exposes ribs, vulnerable to fracture, leaky marrow drains, what remains?

*Not the flesh, no not the flesh, only the towering white towers that will eventually turn to dust and be cycled through a cylinder smooth unisex creature that changes everything into dirt. Later on providing the food for the hand which will eventually get bitten.

It's a permanent solution for a temporary problem
I wish you could breathe another breath
But, for some reason, instead of that,
You chose death.
And I'd love to hold you tight, shake your insides soft
As if filled by a million crashing waves
Every friend would whisper in your ear,
That you could live a million days.
*And that it wouldn't, couldn't, be bad all the time

We grow distant as the days begin to fade
I can already feel you forgetting my name

Everything is covered in a thin layer of ash
My lungs
My dreams
Nothing is as it used to seem
Now lay me down to sleep
Just you and I
Choked, by the smoke
Of my mind's demise

I'll miss you
But most of all,
I'll miss how I was,
When I was,
With you.

Before you left,
Running away,
From the memory,
Of me,
And who you were.

May the light,
Of the morning sky,
Be tinged on,
Your eyes,
*Be filled with longing.

Help me take on this world of woe
I know I can't do it on my own
While people are fading and changing
I'm a permanent fixture, watching, waiting
Run your fingers down my back to keep me fixed
Eradicate my distractions with every kiss
And I'll put my hands to your face
I won't waste this precious space
I think we can do this if we are strong.
Standing in the middle of this surging throng.

I dream the dreams no one can see
Pressing my fingers against my wrist
To feel the spaces between my heart beats
Attempting to even out my breathing
I just feel so lost now and then
Can't really set my feet on the ground
Floating up towards the sky again
Rendered speechless by my own head