I can't stand the heat when you're gone,
it's like my sweat doesn't mean anything,
and the headaches are just there, buzzing.

When my make-up melts onto my shirt,
I just leave it on, and wear it for days.
I don't have to look nice anymore.
(Did I ever look nice?)

It was nice seeing you the other day,
even though none of this was mentioned,
I guess you haven't gotten a chance to listen yet,
or maybe you didn't want to talk about it.
It's fine if you don't.

It was weird when our lips touched,
yours were soft and perfect and everything I imagined,
but it wasn't a kiss,
it happened twice,
but it still wasn't a kiss.

We're both humans,
and I like the little ways we prove it to each other,
(I'm glad you like it too).

Thanks for the drink,
I really needed it.

Sitting next to you is like the first bite of real food
after being a child your whole life,
eating mashed bananas and apple sauce.
Switching from one ****** to the next,
when you switched from ******* to biting
is when I knew we'd finally grown up.

I was in a layer of a memory,
and I was looking at it from inside my mind,
for some reason it scared me
because it's hard to swim in sand,
and you certainly can't breathe in it.

I've been so interested in you that
I've memorized the lines that lace your eyes,
and I can only hope,
that you've memorized mine too,
or at least fade into the color.

I keep telling myself,
"You don't love him,
not like that."
but I can still feel my heart smile,
and I'm just happy that you'll be in my life,
and that I can hold you whenever I want.
I think the best part about us,
is that I don't have to ask if you're happy,
because I know you are.

I've thought a lot of beautiful things,
and I want to share all of them with you.

Time smiled and killed our friendship
I think it was the day after
we discussed our body fabric.
It was because we needed the smell
of flowers to keep us sane,
but you were allergic
and I cut myself on too many thorns.
I swear I never meant to break your piano,
or ruin the carpet with my kool-aid drenched hair.

You said a lot of things would **** me,
now that I think about it,
you always used to get mad about my addiction to coffee,
and that untitled man that sat at our table.

I never understood why cats like it when you rub their necks,
I didn't like it when you used to rub mine,
I guess because it made me feel like a cat.
You know I never liked animals.

Life has gotten cold as time has worn on,
and my face has worn out,
because I have to wear it everyday,
and I've forgotten a lot of things,
so I use thinking as an alternate to dreams.

I've always thought I needed kisses to live,
but when I lie with my mouth open,
my cheeks break under the weight,
and I can't talk with my tongue in your mouth.

I fell asleep,
dreaming of your blood shot eyes
I woke up,
to an earthquake of emotion
I gave in,
to the fragile smile of a timid boy
I gave up,
to the words that held me down
I went to,
a place with people
I left,
and sang about their hats
their dreams
and then,
I danced their ambitions
I fell asleep,
to the song of your splattered eyes
I woke up,
to the reality that they never belonged to me.

I was watching this movie about this woman,
and she was trying to ****** this man,
but they had known each other since they were kids
and he didn't think of her that way,
so whenever the woman would try and make a move
he would simply remove himself from the moment.
It was sad, in a humorous way.

It reminded me of that story you told me,
the one about the time you were home alone
and you tried to make a bath tub full of tea
and drink it all, but you ended up forgetting
about it and you spent the rest of your weekend cleaning.
It was funny, but in a close-friends sort of way.

I know we don't listen to all the same music,
and I don't know that much about what we do,
but I'd like to think that it effects us the same.

Our accumulative energy is making this happen:
The power of thought awakens emotion.
Move our hands, up and down,
glued together in a sadistic motion.
Pull on my teeth until I can't speak,
whisper in the language that makes me weak.

Use your mouth and open mine:
as hollow as the tv screen
you pull my hair until I scream.
Move and flow in my bed
Don't do something that you'll dread.
Turn to the direction of my door
I lay there naked on the floor.
Begging me with your sunken eyes,
the sun melts my skin and you leave me blind.

you're sitting across from this sharp-tongued old lady at the breakfast table,
she has odd clothes, a double chin and boots that squeak.
You don't like her much, but she doesn't like you either.
It's a mutual annoyance.
You're sweating a little because she makes you nervous,
and you forgot to put on deodorant before leaving the house,
and she's scrunching her face up and sniffing loudly to let you know that she can smell you.

You watch her as she eats, slowly, as if she'd never eat again,
crumbs from her toast sprinkle her face, you want to reach out and brush them off for her,
but you're afraid that your fingers will melt into her butter-like skin.
The thought was real, and unconscious.

The sort of way a boys thoughts should always be, if you ever get one like that,
keep him in that state as long as you can.