Once, what feels like a millennium ago, I met you.

You were the stars in my eyes,
you were the new "New".

A while ago I thought I knew
                              you,
but as it turns out, I simply hadn't a clue
                           about you.

I thought that what we had was something true,
but today I know that you
are not the person who I knew.

Maybe I thought it was logical to want to pursue
                                                  you;
            but I threw
that stale, old reasoning in the waste-paper basket.

I know my feelings will still be true,
               even if you
are not who I thought I knew.

I wish you were a part of my life,
but thinking of you
just makes me even more blue.

All that I can say today,
is that "birthdays don't mean much anymore."
What about you?

how can I be drunk
round and a round and a round i go
the looking glass reflects
I have waited all my life

You say you are bonafide
lay your law down on me love.

if you don’t treat me better,
baby i’ll just run away.
i don’t know what drives you
to play these silly games.

I have done what I’ve done,
and it has the ultimate consequence.
in my temple boy, be warned, violence doesn’t have a home.
Then a voice calls me back, “this is not business,
no, it’s more like spiritual.”

I am possessed.
You strike with dry poison.
When will you wake up?
I want you more than the stars and the sun

we could buy an airplane
build a home in the sand
you could tell your secrets
i could understand.
seems we got a cheaper feel now.

Smacked upside of the head,
he lit you up,
fixed you up real good
til I don’t know you anymore.

there’s not a lot of me left anymore— just leave it alone.
you gave it up.

Do you think just like that
you can divide this:
you as yours, me as mine
to before we were us.

No need to push me again.
I know it’s your day in the sun.
What is left?
What is right?
I left the right man.
i let him wake me but decided not to stay.

By the time you’re twenty-five, they will say
“you’ve gone and blown it.”
By the time you’re thirty-five, I must confide,
you will have blown them all.

I shall never forget these experiences.

Today is lovely and charming.
the crisp autumn air
is indeed magical;
however, no
enchantment or elixir or trance

can rival the true
bliss of how I
felt in those
gay summer days.

I know that
those days of yore
are gone forever,

but I can't help
to relive those days:

those ones I refer to
as my 'awakening',

those ones in which
I grew up,

those ones in which
I knew no fear or prejudice,

save only love and courage.

What. what is this tide that turns within me?

my emotional barometer has gone haywire:
I can't tell triumph from grief

any longer.

Once I might have said I was strong,

I was blinded by your shining armour,
                the smooth glitz of your scales.

Your eyes stung me,
you shot your crippling poison into my heart.

Your fangs are still embedded in my skin,
your venom everstill circulates amongst
my bloodstream.


I seduced you—or did you ****** me?

Those days are no longer memories:
rather, they are something more akin to a
strange, fantastical dream I once had.

When will I wake up and be shown what life really has in store for me?

in and out
in and out
out and in

my little breaths
              are of a different sort.

the pitterpatter of my heartdrum beats against my eardrum:
i sit in silence and do not know what to think.

salt water flows out from my eyes

oh when did i get this ocean inside of me?

i am surrounded by,
drowning in
                   things.

the people are absent,
there is no warmth,
                      no love.

the frigid and dank skeleton of a house
                                is what i call my home.
these words, the texts and scrawlings may give me
                        solace
                           momentarily,
but i feel ill and lost.
          hadn't i found happiness before?

My heart is sick of being in chains.

our lives are now a
                                     taboo.

we didn't ask for this.
we didn't ask for anything.

     but then isn't that just how this
                        funny, little
                                  life
                                          works?

my existence is now a fantasy:
            I am walking in a dreamworld.

thick, black clouds of melancholia hang low over my head,
though there is not really a true cloud in the sky.


what does this all mean?


I am searching in my innermost depths
       for some answers.


                         fire

I feel the great heat collecting in my small heart,
          this circle of fire.

     Oh, Elizabeth!
     Muriel's been missing,
     Won't you help me
             find
                 her?

we are dancing on lost graves.