Most of the time, I listen,
Short stories, battle scars and romance.
I swear I met Romeo once
or at lease his reincarnate. He had eyes
full of longing.
Most of the time, I find myself waiting,
for answers, time to pass,
and him.
But mostly, I'm happy.

Longing.
It's the burn of a vast hole full of emptiness
right in the center of my chest,
my heart beats hollow within his hands-
half way across the world.

Second story windows used to call my name-
the wind in my hair, free falling.
But I stare and dream constantly of freedom
with dark circles around blood shot eyes.
I try to be a better someone.
Beckon me.

You're pretty with that thousand dollar smile,
bliss.
With your hair in a mess on top of your head-
Satan's got a bid on your soul.

Flowers in my hands, I stand at your door
with my heart, mind and eyes open
ready to free fall into the intensity of your eyes.
I'll wait for you
to come down and find me
in my faded blue jeans
standing with stars in my eyes. Find me.