I can still feel energy in us,
it's pumping my blood.
I'm not tired yet.

But if your energy pumps my blood
away from us and onto the shore,
I can't stop it without creating a hurricane.

So lay yourself to rest on the beach.
Let your mind rest, too.
Forget about me.
Wade in the water when your ready.

I know you prefer the crashing water
when it's closer to your ankles,
I just wish you could hold your breath long enough
to swim through the depths of my non-rushing blood.

I speak with the silence that listens to the woes of all things,
wishing I could live one day in it's heavy life,
whispering in it's ear, "I want you."
And I wish all this silent liquor could be champagne,
but my hands know I don't deserve that sort of luxury,
and I wish my gambling was done at the races,
rather than at this blurry basement fold-out table,
but my barren heart does not deserve that sort of luxury.

And I know,
Who knows? Who cares?
And I know,
that this is all embarrassing for me.
I know. Who cares?

And now that the air does not hurt my face anymore,
I can't hide under layers of wrapping.
Let me put on a show for you,
even if you miss the whole performance.
Let me prepare a show for you,
so I can hideaway in a spotlight.

We are walking on familiar ground
in an unfamiliar climate.
We have done this before,
and it'll be the same beneath a burning sun.
I know. Who cares?

And I've given up the sky raining lavender,
and I've settled for being a weekend lover,
and I've settled for being only one type of friend.
Oh! darling, tell me if the sky cries purple for you.

I've been holding this knife against your flesh
for some time now, and you've never been able to feel it.
And finally, I put the pressure on the soft side
and was shocked to see that you bleed my type of indigo.

If only we had fallen and scraped our knees on the pavement together
and I could have seen that you're made of invisible indigo,
then I could have seen that our blood was born to bleed brown together.

So leave me be to lie awake,
wishing for sleep.
So leave me be in this shelter
that I thought would be my healer.
So leave it be to collapse on me,
keeping me warm.

And I ask that I get what I want for just this time,
when I know that good things don't happen to those
who believe that guilt is a small price to pay for happiness.

And now I lie awake thinking about all the people I know
that will die someday.
And all the ugly things that make this world beautiful,
And all the ugly toxins making my body and mind feel beautiful,
and how they could **** me someday if they wanted to.

These days I settle for lovers I don't have to love,
these days I know I couldn't if I wanted to.

I never had an interesting cover
and the title on my spine is old and peeling
and people don't publish reviews about me anymore.

I wish I had the reassurance that they were always right behind me.
But I let them go, as they planted their feet into the ground.
I left part of my body attached as the wind pulled me forward,
and now I am sluggish and un-whole.

I let him go tonight and the wind only blows towards tomorrow.

I've always sensed the scent
coming from down under.
It's the green goo creeping under the door
from my animated adolescent nightmares.

And I'm back to my adolescent ways these days,
yelling in a whisper at my face in the mirror.
Yelling at a the beloved shadow that goes unnoticed.

And if I'm covering up my lies with feelings,
and I'm covering up my organs with skin,
then why am I not covering up my skin?

And I'm covering up my life in a blanket with far too many holes.
but it is still able to protect the boney parts of my body
where my skin is too thin.

Leeching to a dependent,
I've never been cured by the cold.

I hear the planes flap their wings
and long for them to let me fly
away with them.

"I don't actually own him,
but we're together all the time
so I guess we're friends."

And I'm taking a bath while
I'm still clean,
to burn the follicles off my
creasing forehead.

A walking corpse, undead amongst a society of necrophiliacs.