The clouds around me gather
as I collect my thoughts about what I think is real or not.
The fear takes over in the blue sky of my mind
and my heart sinks deeply into the abyss of my chest
and I wonder how many lives have you had before we met
and how many lives will you have after me.
The ocean of my heart is deep and waning
and I have no way to navigate it without
the ideas of what I think I know already
and it is of no help because
without the smell of you I have no way to remember
if you were real.
Sometimes I sit here confused
and strained
and all I want is to have a cigarette like someone who has a real thought would need to compose their real thoughts
and look smart about it but but but but..
disappointment surges in again
and again like a cruel joke
and it makes me wonder if the decisions I make about my life
and the choices I choose are really the ones that I need
when clearly they aren’t.
You were a choice as well.
Every conversation was a choice
and you also were a casualty.
We were a casualty
and I let us die
foolishly.

my definition of epic would be this:
you + me =  epic.
that's all there to it.
you with the addition of me
is the recipe of everything epic.

in combination of my episodes
and your sic flow of rhymes
i think we would have a grand ol' time
my face is compatible with yours
especially when pressed close together

i'd be shameless to persuade you
into thinking we could both die
if we don't hold hands everyday
all it would take is leaving subtle hints
like scream the song lovefool til i turn blue

look man, all i want to say is
it would be great...more than great
possibly the greatest thing we ever did
in the small spec of our existences...

might as well make it epic.

i'm such a fool! such a fool! a lovefool! i am dramatically falling against the piano, wine glass slipped from my fingers and crashed onto the floor; oh! merry death, sweet taste of love and pain: torture to my silent psyche, torture to my quivering heart:
                        thought he’d love me! love me! thought he’d take me! take me!  
                       there never seems to be the one and the way that I'd want it! maybe they'd come over: but there would be pneumonia. yeah, i'd really want to, but i don't think i want to.
will i come back from? feeling this uncentered? will i get rest from? these problems? but i must detach from it, detach from the sea: this ship was so beautiful, but it sunk, unfortunately.