Words are ****.
I love words.
If you were a word I'd marry you.
I'd write you over and over and have *** with you.
Ill use my tongue a lot because that's what **** words like.
They like to roll against my tounge like a french kiss.
French words don't roll off my tongue.
The English words have run a muck.

Now that the night has arrived
It feels right to glide into it.
To give up the fight
And the daily draining
Of my soul into the sun.

It seems right to hear the cars
Zipping by.
Florescent lights as a gentle sight.
The twinkle, glitter of the sky
And the breathe that is not quite a sigh.

The bushes sway right to left
While the wind works like a caress.
It kisses and commands everything it interacts with.
And everything around it works with it.
And everyone here likes to go with the flow of this life.

I am color blind.
I see dead people that look alive.
I see a dream
That’s deeper than an ocean.
I see kids playing while they still can.
Before that American dream
destroys their youth and
Crushes their soul.
Before they become anti-social
And dull
And afraid to jump,
Afraid to take a chance.
I see the youth being told
That the world is scary,
Everyone wants to **** you
Or steal you,
**** you
And drill you,
Break your heart,
Tell you
"You’re not that smart".
I see the kids while they are still kids.

I hear California dreams.
A living obnoxious lullaby,
A living nightmare
That is shared by you and me,
And we wait for the change
That is only found within one another.
We wait for someone to save us
From the nightmare that has become a pester
And a seamlessly ever lasting fear.

So, please dear, just for me,
Just do it.
“**** it”
You’re gonna regret and forget it anyway.
Both are bound to happen.
I forget a lot of things I regret
It’s all irrelevant to the time and the position of the sun.
It depends on our mood.
It takes shape from our experiences
And our darkest secrets.

My secrets are pearl white.

We don't say much.
But we know each others words
and we both have  a way with them.
Silence doesn't say much,
Yet its presence is deep felt.

We'll meet at the end of the street
In the dark shadows covered by aging leaves
And studded by light aged stars.
You remind me that we were their dust.
That we will become someone else's dust.

I didn't say much.
But we both know what will come next.
The words don't mean much.
We both have a way with them.

It's this feeling that is drilling
Calling me to come
And i hear it loud.
It rings to me
It sings to me.
It doesn't see
my situation
and the  complication
of these feeling and
where you and me
end up- near a street.

Don't dream about summer
In the winter.
The Fall wasn't that bad.
But now the Spring
Is longer.

I am a condition.
I am a state.
I am a situation.
I am especially an Un-
Favorable,
Unfortunate one.