I'm writing this poem from my brand-new iPhone
And I'm already consumed by it
But it's not just me stuck in the tube
Millions and millions of people
Oblivious to the natural beauty
That is our ever loving planet
Drop the phone, explore. a cave
Turn new stones, catch some waves
Humanity we have to save
From this monstrous epidemic
Of technological addiction

Your kiss is sweeter than
The nectar of hummingbirds flowers

You wanna talk about it?
I'm begging you to walk in my shoes any time
Watch the clock till you unwind
You wanna cry about it
It's making me consider that I've lost my mind
The way I see you must be blind

It's all the little reminders
That tear me down,
Again...

I'll simply say
That I'm not the same
Without you

To quote your favorite movie,
"Don't you forget about me.."

PART I
Sam had been eagerly awaiting this move. The new house was spectacular. An old, colonial home in rural Pennsylvania, with a wraparound veranda and a bay window in what appeared to be a castle spire on the far North side. The roof was made out of red clay, pieces of it broken, yet undisturbed. The front yard was turning brown in the July sun, and the front door had a crack in it the size of Texas. But with a little elbow grease, Sam and his family were going to make this ****-hole a home.

Sam walked inside the front door and was greeted with one of those large staircases that splits into two directions at the top. There was a portrait of someone at the top of the stairs, but his face had been ripped out of the painting. Peculiar. He then walked across the squeaky floor into the kitchen where he decided to run the sink for a drink of water. Rust. The water ran brown and he was wondering what he would drink since the fridge was still in the back of the U-Haul. While the rest of his family was still unloading, curious Sam decided to tour the house, since this was the first time he’d actually been in it.
He went upstairs and hung a left. The wallpaper here was hideous. A mix of Posies and Lavender painted the walls with a yellow smoke-stained backsplash. Upstairs smelled weird. Ammonia and cigars. Classy cigars. Not a 75 cent Black & Mild you buy at the drive thru when you can’t afford a real pack of smokes. I follow the smell back to a bedroom. This bedroom was the master room. Sam opened the door that was slightly ajar, only to find the room was completely barren, short of an old timey rocking chair. Maybe the old occupants left it?
Walking about this room Sam feels a cool chill on the air. Like a September breeze gently brushing the back of your neck. Looking around he felt nothing but the empty space. No weird vibe, but not a comfortable one either. He felt like an iceberg standing in the ocean all alone, waiting for the Titanic to come along. The Titanic in this case, being something of any interest or excitement. Time to move on.
He moved out of the room, past the stairs and into another, smaller room, past the strange portrait. Once again, there was an empty, barren space where his feet hit the floor. This room had carpet. Old carpet, maybe **** from the seventies. But he really didn’t care. It just appeared as a fire hazard to him. Hardwood has always been Sams’ favorite. He wandered about this room the same as the last, feeling nothing but the coolness and how awfully the room was decorated. Obviously a childs room. The walls were covered in Zebras, leapords, tigers, and lions. There was coloring on the walls. He didn’t notice what it said until he really looked. “YOU’RE GOING TO DIE HERE” was inscribed on the wall in red Crayola marker. He binked, and rubbed his eyes. Looking up again, it was gone. How strange. I’m not imagining this, he thought to himself. I have 20/20 vision, I don’t mistake anything. Oh well. His inner monologue had ended.
After a minute of contemplation, he decided to go help the rest of his family. On his way out the door to grab a box, he was greeted by his eccentric mother. “Aren’t you excited, Sammy?!” She exclaimed as he came outside. “This house is so old. I love the history.” She said enthusiastically. She was a young mother, having Sam at the age of 19. She was a nurse. Taking care of people was her specialty, and another was not giving any regard to herself. Being 31 now, she’s having a sort of mid-life I-Need-To-Feel-Youthful-again crisis. That’s why she bought this house. She figured a new house could mean a new her, and she could live how she’d always wanted too. She was a small framed woman, about 5’3 with a petite figure and a bright red pixie cut. As she was carrying boxes of China into the kitchen to place on the counter, she had to stop and breathe in the places aroma. Inhaling deeply, she sighed “Wow, sam. This is spectacular. Don’t you think so?”

“Kinda weird.” Sam replied, making his way up the veranda steps with another box. Placing it down, he commented about the hideous wallpaper. “This place is pretty **** ugly to me.” Sam said distastefully. “Samuel Smith, watch your mouth!” Mother said. Being a single mom and not having a father figure to help raise Sam, she’d done the best she could. Always teaching him to use his manners, watch his language and chew with his mouth closed. She’s the picture perfect mom, only missing the mini-van that comes with mom-hood. “I think we’ll make it work just fine, baby.” She added as she came up to him, wrapped her hands around his cheeks and kissed his forhead. “I love you, pumpkin.” She whispered. Sam replied, wiping her hands from his face. “Mom, come on. I’m to old for that stuff now.”

She pulled away, minding her boundaries. “You’re never too old to be my baby, Sammy.” Now go wash up, I called in for take-out earlier since we don’t have a stove yet, and you know you’re not allowed to be ***** at dinner time.” Sam sighed deeply. “Ugh, fine.” He stomped his way to the bathroom to see the new shower. Everything in the bathroom was very nice, except for a crack across the mirror. He took in his surroundings as he ran the water. To his surprise, the water in the shower wasn’t burnt orange and filled with rust. It ran clear, as it should. Sam stripped down and showered, singing Motely Crue to himself while washing.

After stepping out of the shower, he went and ate dinner with his mother. He’d gotten his usual order of General Taos chicken on a bed of white rice, extra sauce. Mother ate the egg rolls and dipped them in soy sauce. She wasn’t a big fan of meat, anymore.
After a few more hours of moving and assistance from hired help, sam went to his room and laid down on his brand new mattress. Covered in plastic, he struggled to find a comfortable spot where he wouldn’t slide off. He found it in the middle, and slept.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“What the hell?!” Sam jumped out of his bed and almost out of his ****** Doo themed pajamas. BANG! BANG! BANG! “Mom?!” he yelled. He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, and flipped the light. He found his mother in the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors shut with all of her might. “What are you doing, mom?” Sam yelled. She turned to face him. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t quite point it out. She curled her lips into a smile and said “Go back to bed, Sammy. Mommies just having fun.”
“Um… okay. Goodnight then, I guess.” “Goodnight, Samuel” she muttered. That was NOT mothers voice. “Are you okay? You seem weird.” “Mommies fine, Samuel. Go back to bed.” He went without questioning It anymore. This had frightened Sam out of his wits. His mother doesn’t bang cabinet doors shut at 3:35 A.M, or ever, for that matter. He tried to disregard it and went to sleep again, using his pillow to drown out the banging.

PART II
Sam woke the next morning after a bout of nightmares to the smell of bacon and eggs. His favorite. He bounded down the stairs, all but forgetting the events of the previous night. He bounded down the stairs and greeted his mother with a grin. She returned the favor, but there were heavy purple bags underneath her eyes. Like she’d either been beaten or hadn’t slept in weeks. “You okay, mom?” Sam asked as she forked him some breakfast onto a plate. “Just fine, dear. Why do you ask?” She beamed. She seemed happier than ever. “Why were you banging the cabinets shut last night? That scared me.” Sam said shakily. “What? What do you mean, baby?” she seemed confused. She didn’t know was what coming out of Sam’s mouth. Sam reiterated “Last night, about 3:30, you were banging all the cabinet doors shut as loudly as possible. I thought someone was breaking into our house. Don’t you have an explanation?”
She chewed her lip and thought hard for a moment. “I don’t remember that at all, Sammy. I went to bed shortly after you. I didn’t wake up all night.” Now Sam was really concerned. Is his mom becoming schizophrenic? Multiple personalities? He knew that loneliness had been eating at her, even he could see that. Not having a man in her life has really kept her down. She felt overused and underappreciated, and Sam feared it was taking a toll on her. “If you say so, ma.” This was so strange. He’d never seen her like this. He decided to explore the rest of the house to take his mind off of it.
After eating his breakfast and rinsing his plate, he rounded the corner of the kitchen. On the far wall was a door he’d never seen before. A cellar door. He approached it and noticed that the wood was afflicted with woodrot and the lock was rusted shut. But he’d be ****** before that stopped him. He kicked the door and put his foot right through the dampened pine. He pulled his foot out, rached his hand through the hole, and unlocked it from the other side.

He swung what was left of the door open. It pretty much shattered into splinters when he let it down. “How long has it been since anyone’s been down here? I don’t even think Mom knows this is here.”  Sam thought to himself as he descended into the darkness. The concrete steps led to a dirt floor at the landing. Shelves all around. Sam couldn’t figure out what he was seeing. He was seeing specimens in glass jars, preserved. Small sharks, bits of plants and vegetables, a pig heart, seemingly all things you would find in a biology class or in the lab of a mad scientist. Beakers, mortars and pestles, bunson burners, and an operation table. He moved towards the table.He saw what appeared to be dried blood. There were embalming tools. Large scissors, pliers, a small hammer, a chisel and a collection of scalpels. These instruments had oil stained fingerprints, like the user was using Vaseline or something else slick like that. Could’ve been hair gel for all Sam knew. He looked up at the far wall, and the same message from yesterday was scribes there, only a little different. “YOU’RE BOTH GOING TO DIE HERE.” Sam was terrified. Peering ‘round the room, he saw nothing but the specimens. Hhis heart was beating fast. He felt that strange, cold feeling again. Suddenly, he heard a whisper. One that appeared to be sympathetic, pleading. It said in a raspy tone with the wisdom of experience. “Leave. Leave while you can. He’ll trap you here. The Master. Leave, run, now, boy!” He screamed and went upstairs. His mother was gone, out shopping. He ran into his living room and hid underneath a blanket until she arrived.

The hardest part about meditation
Is coming out of it
Why would I ever leave?
It's so perfect in there
I feel the earth spinning
And the vibrations of the energy around me
I am whole
We are one
And the connection we share is beautiful.

Sometimes I feel,
Like a bird waiting on the line,
Waiting, so patiently,
for his time to take flight

To be more than just a bird
Waiting for his flock
to feel light as his feathers,
After carrying many rocks

I am how I see myself,
and in me, I see an eagle
I find my strength within my soul,
Rise from the ashes of the feeble

Spread my wings and soar
to what was once out of reach
You can be enlightened too,
If you practice what you preach

You are your own king,
Don't you turn when that trumpet sounds
You control your own destiny,
Show them why you wear that crown

Another year in this land.
Another beer in my hand.
I can hear the sounds of the bands,
And the hands, being held, in the street.
I'd love to be, a part of all the festivities.

There are lights in the clouds,
Women swinging around
The waists of the men that they love.

And as the clocks ticking down,
I'll be wrapped, in the shroud
Of the joy in the hearts of men.

What a wonderful time to be alive.

I am I,
I am my face, my nose, my eyes,
I am my shame, my deceit, my lies
And for my sins, I am crucified
I am I,

I am my sweat, I am my bones
I am my death, I am the rose
That grew in the grass where no one goes
I am I,

I am my brows, I am my smile
I am my own impeccable style,
I am the one that stays a while,
I am I,

I am my hand, I am my pen
I am the love letters that we sent
I'm the one who won't repent,
I am I,

I was walking down a dirt path
Deep within a great forest
The trees laid bare by Winters chokehold
The background varying shades of gray,
It was a dreary day

I stopped on a cliff face above a river
And sat on the edge of it's furthest point
And stared between the trees into the early morning sun
Coloring the horizon burnt orange
With the silhouettes of branches swaying in ballet

This was it.
I'd found it
The most perfect spot in the world
to be alone
This cliff a shrine of inner monologues and meditation

I have laid my soul here
This forest and I are one
Everything is connected, a system
Inhale, 1, 2, 3, 4
*Exhale

I don't even know anymore man
I don't want to live anymore
My chest gets heavier every time I exhale
Every bridge looks like a place to jump
Oncoming traffic a play zone,
I want to wash my skin with a razor blade loufa
And clean my teeth with cyanic Listerine

I walk barefoot in hopes of venomous spiders
I break mirrors while walking beneath black cats on ladders
All the while hoping my 7 years comes in a lump sum

I hope I choke on a Goldfish for the irony
Because it's the snack that smiles back

I'm pretty drunk right now,
But my thoughts are clear enough to say,
I believe in you.
I believe in your dreams.
I believe you can overcome your flaws.
I believe you could write the masterpiece of our generation.
You could cure cancer, bring world peace, and feed the hungry.
You can show love.
You can breathe your positive presence into the air.
I want you to go forth and shine like the beautiful star that you are.
Together we can demolish our egos.
Start on the path to purity.
They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step,
So hold my hand, and follow me,
As I take mine.

I saw the lotus,
When it bloomed I stopped to stare
And I saw myself, rising

There once was a man who said he threw it all away
And if he could go back that he would have his day
Go on the road, play a thousand shows,
find his love then he'd lead her home

But the man was out of work and the bills weren't getting paid
And he wasn't eating well, and he wasn't getting laid
It's hard in the arts when you're on your own
And your jackets wearing thin, and you're chilled to the bone

He lived inside his head, in a poets masquerade
Not an important man, not a master of his trade
He knew how it felt to be all alone,
If only his name had been better known

Thought he'd take his life, by a gun or by a blade
Make it to the afterlife, with the likes of Kurt Cobain
so he took a hollow point, pulled the trigger with a groan
I hope peace finds him, wherever he may roam

A man sat in his cramped airline seat,
His teeth chattering,
Biting down on his haggard fingernails
He had never flown before
And he never planned on it
But with the passing of a close relative
He had to take his first flight from Philly
Back to his hometown in Washington state.

Next to him sat a young boy,
who appeared to be much to young
To be by himself on this 737
The man just turned away from the young mans face
And went back to his nail biting

The boy tapped the man on the shoulder,
And he said
"Sir, I know this is scary, but there's no need
To be afraid
I've done this a hundred thousand times
Enough to know that we'll arrive
Exactly thirteen minutes late."

The man was stunned, this boy
This... small man
Enunciated his words like that of an Elder
The man turned to him, and said
"I'm sorry young man, I just can't help this
My whole life I've been isolated,
Closed off, like a shellfish"

The boy turned his head from his window and he said
"Sir, There's no need to fear the events that will unfurl,
Because you know when the oyster opens up
All that's revealed is the pearl."

And suddenly, the man felt none of the fear
He'd been living in for all these years
He rested comfortably, no longer fighting tears
His cycle was broken, the moment was chosen
When he leant the child his ear

Moonlight carries her like an ivory carriage.
She walks with the river and cringes not at the insects.
She resembles the water, always flowing and overcoming.
The fireflies ignite the spark in her eye
And the sun's dawn immortalizes her passion.
She floats, ethereal, with the wind.
Horizons calling her sweetly by first name,
Extending an deathless hand to a mortal goddess.

School can really make you appreciate a complete, dead silence.

Summer nights beckon to me
With memories so happy
And nights well spent together
Then till forever

I'm at home and I'm lost
In my thoughts again
This is why I hate
Being alone

Alone is when my consciousness
Decides to pick away at me
Pulling apart all the little
Pieces of me

My troubles dance in my brain
My worries wrap their hands
Around my heart
My regrets breathe on the back of my neck
And my suicidal counterpart
Whispers in my ear

No, he doesn't whisper
He screams
Everything that I've tried to forget
He reminds me of
Watching the walls I've built
Fall, crumbling to the earth
He laughs maniacly

He's the part of me that
Tells me to sin
He's the part of me
That won't let me forgive.

In my meditations I hear him call
My name from his place of darkness
Inviting me sweetly
But I know he's got a knife behind his back
And he just longs to see me bleed
And the good parts of me die,
Slowly

Lotus position,
River running
Overturning the pebbles
Beneath the surface
Thumb and middle fingers
Pressed together
Leaves are falling
From the tree I sit beneath
Cherry blossoms fall around me
Like pink rain
Inhale, exhale,
My lungs fill and then deflate,
And I feel endorphins leave my brainstem
And spread through my body
As I repeat my mantra,

The birds are singing above my head
I see the late evening sun
Paint the sky burnt orange and pink
Through closed lids
all I can smell are flowers and dew
I taste the peace upon my breath,
And it's very sweet

I am what I am,
I am nature
I am human
I am the universe,
simply observing itself
For a while
I am beautiful,
I will witness myself
In my full, and glorious splendor

I will understand
The real nature
Of things

Inhale, exhale...

Once again I'm up all night.
But tonight is different.
There's not any tossing and turning
Or thrashing about.
Just the stillness of being by myself.
The air is chilly and unbroken by the sound of silence.
Cigarette smoke wafts straight up with no  change in pace.
I wonder if it's linear motion is predetermined or coincidental.
How peculiar.

The callouses are rough
On the feet of
The Pilgrim
His every breath filled with purpose
His calling something higher than himself
He trudges on
Over lush forest and craggy heights
sun-warmed sand and swampy pools
He can't stop
Until he finds his peace

**** and beer
Are much cheaper
Than a ****** therapist

I saw your from across a crowded room
Our eyes connected and sparks flew
I slid in between the waves of humanity
Finding my way over the ocean to you

I made port in your eyes,
And stared into the bay
I'll stay overnight,
And be gone before mid-day

A maiden voyage love affair
Is all this ever was
this ship came rolling in
And stumbled out so fair
The vessel of myself
smelling of ***** and your hair

I think of you later,
When the seas give way to violent motion
You're the flavor that I savored,
Of salt and lover's oceans

The scholar sits by candlelight
Pouring over many a forgotten volume
Left behind by his ancestors
to reveal unto him,
The secrets and majesty of the world
His tired eyes move over scripture
Marked with the ink stain of experiences past
And cerebral treasures long forgotten to modern man

The scholar sits by candlelight,
Scribing into parchment the secrets of his days
For his grandsons grandsons to find,
And pour their tired eyes over the volumes,
Marked with ink stains of experiences past
Cerebral treasures still long forgotten..
The scholars hand still scribes away
For the best understanding of today
Lies in the knowledge of yesterday

She took this stagnant heart
And made it beat again
She made the rain clouds disperse
And the sun beam down on me
When she pressed her lips to mine,
for the first time
And I knew this was the start of forever

The tiger creeps up
To the bank where fishes sleep
And catches his meal

the tiger lies down
In the blades of grass and reeds
His eyes are weary

The tiger wakes up,
Stretches like all felines do
Takes a silent step

The tiger hunts prey,
Stalking it so patiently
Then strikes with full force

The tiger eats now,
The days struggle is over
The sun feels so warm

The tigers happy,
Living as all tigers should
Freely and uncaged

I used to have a tree,
It's gnarled limbs reaching skyward
No matter how often I climbed that tree,
It only seemed to grow higher

The day the rains came,
and the lightning struck my tree
I fell yo my knees,
for the tree is a piece of me,
and the lightning struck me too

This tree still stands,
In the woods, tall and mighty
It's rough, calloused hands,
Still blow in the breeze, nightly
Nothing can bring down my tree,
My tree is tall and proud
The smoking tree still stands,
And lets my friends and I, sit around
In his shade,
The countless games we've played
That he bore witness too
He still reaches up, towards a sky of brighter blue

The wanderer has seen many things,
In his many years of travel,
Many songs, he likes to sing,
While he lets his thoughts unravel

One foot in front of the other,
He looks at the clouds he's under,
He stops, to look,
And sit and wonder
What's become of his father and his mother

Still, he travels on,
Searching for the rights to his wrongs
He grows ever fond
Of the mountains he passes,
That stretch so long

He is the wanderer,
He is the wonderer

I'm angry
No, I'm ******* *******
I don't even know what I'm mad about
But I am
And I'm going to snap
On the next person
That opens their ******* mouth.

I need a loud blunt.
I need a Xanax bar.
I need something to help me cope
Before I take a rope
And surely choke
Myself to death

I'm seething
Barely breathing
I could cry like an infant teething
I am a vengeful god,
Sentient being
All of my subjects
Deserve ruthless beatings

I'm about to have a panic attack
These four walls growing closer
I feel like I just woke up inside a casket
With the dirt being thrown on top
And I can't even scream

I can't breathe,
I can't ******* breathe!
Get me out of here!
I can't be here anymore!

I can't cough because my throat is clutching
I'm drowning on snot and tears
I can't push this away
I have no choice
But to suffer
Through this

Expecting to wake up,
From this dream of nineteen years.

Your eyes are far away nebulas
distant, yet your light still shines true
the blackest voids of space or negativity
Could not smother the twinkle,
That I fell in love with

When you're angry, solar flares arise
giving way to explosions of emotion and time
When you're sad,
Waves of endless gas and winds of cold conversation

But, it's that twinkle of stars, I love
The one that could outshine the sun
It's your eyes, those eyes,
those eyes that drop tears of ice
Colder than frozen nitrous gas,
Those eyes that ignite, when we touch
Mine and yours connect, yin and yang,
I revel in their colors and stories left untold,
No matter how many times I want to leave,
I can never resist,
Those eyes, those eyes, those eyes that ignite
When we touch...

I'm so tired of screaming at myself.
I'm so tired of screaming at everyone else.
I'm so tired of pulling bottles from the shelf.
I'm just tired.

No matter what I say,
Or the things I do,
I will always
Love you

Through infidelity,
Through sharp tongue,
Through all our stress,
And being high strung
I will always love you

You're still the wind in my sail
On this sea of oil and blood
The sun to the petals
Of a lotus still blooming

You were the colors in the visions of kaleidoscope trips
The euphoria in all my drugs of choice,
And no amount of cut
Could degrade your purity
You still enter my system like water rushing inside a tunnel,
Unobstructed, and powerful

I miss the way you used to look at me
How I used to be the center of your universe
Because I saw the world swimming around your pupil in my reflection

You were my world too, ya know

I feel empty inside
Consumed by the lies
That you told me
You went and did it like everyone else
You cheated
You ******* cheated Cheyenne.
I tried to forgive you
I tried to push my anguish aside and look at you
In the same light that I used to before all this
Before my brain was torn into a million pieces
That all began arguing with each other violently
The sea of opinions and feelings could drown a fish
I treated you like gold babe
I wanted to give you the world
Or the little pieces of it that I could offer you
I can't stand the Idea of what you did
But its even worse picturing life without you
Such a huge impact in this two month period.
You became the light of my life
The sun to my earth
My troubled head always revolving around your center
A cosmological scale couldn't fit the potential we had together
So many unmade memories
So many moments that will never be shared
So many kisses of warm lips under a tangerine sunset
And that just unsettles me
I can't imagine the things that will never be now
Because forgiveness was never my strong suit
But we're taking time now
Because I believe in second chances
Just do this
Prove yourself to me
Because all I want to feel is your touch
And it's ghost doesn't satisfy
I miss the taste of your lips on mine
But I can only imagine yours on his
And it makes me sick.
Just show me I can trust you
I'm begging you , please,
Because the thought if losing you is petrifying.

I feel like my outlet of the pen
Isn't as prevalent as it was then
The world quelled the poets mind
Silenced the verses I sing inside
An affliction of nothingness
My brain has wrought
I once had something,
A train of thought ?
Have the verses come back?
Do they dance in their alignment,
As I pour these words onto a page?
I think not..

When the poet cannot write
He sits awake in thought at night
Because the thoughts have no place to go
How to share himself he does no know
I've always been an introvert
Talk about myself? Absurd
Instead I observe
And the words begin to churn
Begin to spiral
Poetry laced in piety
These thoughts are viral
Often suicidal
Of intricate insight and false idols
Yet, I feel so alone
When the words don't churn
Can't reflect on what I've observed
But I have to try,
So to the pen I do return

I'll throw a penny
Softly to the wishing well
Waiting for release

All our lives are transient,
So just live

For me

I feel it now,
I'm beginning to levitate
It's been far too long since I've felt this feeling
I hear an electric start up noise
As I feel my pupils dilate
And when I look in the mirror
It's like staring at the dark side of the moon
I'm looking at my friends
And the blurs and extra copies of them
The traces behind their movements
And their eyes wide open,
REM while completely awake
I look at the lines in the hardwood floor
That are jumping around
In the way that piano keys do
When you run your finger all the way across them
And the Salvador Dali print on the wall and I
Are practically having ****** relations
And Einstein looks on from the wall with his questioning gaze
And I stare back in wonder, but I think he and I
Had a mutual understanding of each other
and everything around us
Like we were laughing at a joke that nobody else was in on.
I'm playing with the fingers of the couch design
That peel up and wave
And reach up to touch the ceiling
Because it's moving like waves do
Smoke moves in front of the light
And I laugh when it turns green
Then disappears
I feel all the notes around me
Floating from the TV that's playing Pink Floyd's "The Wall"
And when that hammer comes down, in reality,
It came down on my brain
And it splattered everywhere on the walls
in an aquatic watercolor mural
Because I was imagining myself riding a dolphin
My jaw won't stop clenching, but that's okay
I'm watching the trees outside perform ballet
And the grass roll in waves...
This is the best night of my life

You're the smoke I can't catch in my glass
The sand I tried to mold that ran between my fingers
I couldn't make you stay,
So you slipped away
With a grit beneath my nail
And the smell of stale smoke
Still lining my nose

I wasn't enough,
I hope she finds what she wants
It's clearly not me

I see sunshine through the rain
I gain power from my pain
No more running delusionaly deranged

I'll put my hopes in faith,
And my head on straight,

Cause I got my baby back