Make out
To take it out.
Get it put out of your head.
Thoughts,
Feelings,
Gone.
One time
Is all it takes
To forget what you were longing for.
Go from one to another
But it's always hallow.
Like singing into a cave,
Or having no one to follow your shadow.
A smile is nice but I want more,
A touch is good too,
But what I need is a kiss,
It's the only thing that will do.
Faked emotions just for the act,
To help me find something I lack.
I know I will get there soon but till then,
You look nice
Wanna share a smile or two?

I admit it was a little odd being in your place again,
Especially without you.
But I did have a blast.
The boys played their game with Family Guy in the background,
Kara and I baked,
And we all laughed.
We were amazed to see what everyone is like sober,
And really they aren't much different.
Chase was still confused about everything,
James was still a smart ***,
But one person was a little different.
Evan was joking,
Laughing,
Smiling.
He was being polite,
Offering to help bake,
Offering to let us play their game.
You all may think Evan is a stick in the mud,
But I think he is a sweetheart.

"No I'm not the man I used to be lately,
See you met me at an interesting time"

-I don't mind. I like things interesting.

"If my past is any sign of your future,
You should be warned before I let you inside"

-Give me all the warning you want. It won't stop me from wanting to know you more.

"Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through"

-I think I found it. I think it's you.

"I don't trust myself with loving you."

-I'm scared too.

"Who do you love me or the thought of me? Me or the thought of me?"

-Maybe both. I am scared to admit it to myself.

"I don't trust myself with loving you."

-I don't either, I don't either.

Dreams of you always feel so real.
I can see your smile again,
Hear your country drawl.
Dreams of you make me feel so alive.
Going down dirt roads,
Sitting in the middle of your truck,
Finding places to pull off for a minuet or two
To fill our need of kissing.

But when I wake up the wanting starts again.
That hallow ache only you bring.
Every sad country song is about you.
Every pick up truck is you passing me by.
Where have you gone?
I miss you.
Can you tell?
Do you feel it too?
Come back to me,
Or at least give me a call.
This heartache is too much.

Let's pack up your old car and head out east,
To a coast where no one knows our names.
You'll wear those dark shades and I'll dye my hair brown.
We can start over, change our names.
I've always liked Camille.
You say it's forced and contrive, but you like it for me anyway.
You'll choose Wadsworth or Earnst, just to be witty.
We can shop for our new personas at thrift stores in the towns we pass through.
We will look ragged and worn, just like the cover of your favorite book.
You always find the beauty in the rough edges, you tell me I look the most beautiful when I first wake up, or just get out of the shower.
You are a true romantic. You don't belong in this dust filled state. You be long somewhere better.
Let's pack up your old car and head out east, where you can truly be free.

The stars over head twinkle
With the thought of young love.
The wind rustles through our hair
To urge on our emotions.
His hand firm on the small of my back,
Pressing hot into my skin.
We sway into each other's arms,
Lips trembling with anticipation.

After exchanged whispers of adoration,
Those trembling lips tremble no more,
And find each other in a sweet moment of innocence.
A first time shared.
A kiss not to be forgotten.

Time had no hold on us,
The only thing that ended our night was
The coffee shop's sign flipping from open to closed.

I couldn't stop smiling,
The only person that I saw in that
Small crowded shop was
You.

I can't believe our common interests
And everything we talked about.
I think this may be right.

Side hugs are nice,
But tonight let's up the stakes.
I am willing to take a chance if you are.

Kiss me on the forehead,
And push my hair to the side.
Pull me into your arms
And tell me it will be alright.
Whisper in my ear by the light of the moon,
"My heart is all yours."
Dreamers will always dream,
But this one I hope to make true.

It kills me
To see what he had
With her.

Can I ever have that?

The sparkle in his eye,
That outrageous smile.

I want him to have that again.

I want to have that too.

I want us to have that together.

But I always want what I can't have.

Voices
Fight inside me.
Who am I?
Where am I going?
Why can't I be all of me at once?
What am I?
Musical.
Artsy.
Moping.
Peppy.
Leader.
Happy.
For now,
I am,
And will be,
Me.

I feel like I have been gone for too long, and I am ready to come back.
Will you all still remember me?
Still welcome me with open arms and cold drinks?
I hope so.
I miss the comfort of the mismatched couches and effortless smiles.
I miss being in the presence of such musical talents.
I miss watching you guys loose  your selves and wishing I could let myself do that.
I miss the one quiet in the corner,
The one with the kind eyes,
The one with the contagious smile,
The one who roamed around,
The one with the good heart,
The one I just met,
The one who I long to know better,
The one who might be saving the kind eyes.
If I want to come back, will you take me?

I traced a map on the back of his hand,
I hoped it would lead me away from you.
I made wishes on stars,
On 11:11 alarm clocks,
On dandelions.
I keep getting lost and finding my way back to you.
My wishes aren't coming true.
I pick myself up just to watch myself fall.
Maybe I like the hurt,
The chase,
The thrill of you.
You've made my walls come down,
Made me loosen up my strict values,
Set me free.
You gave me my first taste of poison,
My first sip of sin,
My first rebellion.
Thank you, 
But I feel that you are telling me to move on.
I don't want to,
But dear friend,
It's up to you.

I'm tired.
Tired of reading meanings into words you slurred.
Tired of trying to impress you.
Tired of trying to look hot enough for you.
Tired of being called cute.
Tired of being called nice.
Tired of being called sweet.
I am tired.
Tired of trying to win you over.
Tired of you thinking you are too messed up for me.
Tired of trying to be perfect.
Tired of never getting a second look.
Tired of not having my fun.
Tired of you not being here with me.
Tired of my image.
Tired of my status.
I am so tired.
Please take me in,
Revive me.
We can be reborn together.
Recharge our souls on a playlist,
On a sip of poison,
On a touch of skin.
Take me in,
I am just too tired.

The scent of your cologne and incense
always linger behind,
Attaching themselves to me in a cruel reminder
Of just how much I love the smell that is you.
Deep and woody,
It brings memories of fireplaces,
Winter nights,
And spiced chai.
Ski lodges,
Knit hats,
And gloved hands two sizes bigger,
Still holding on for dear life.
Cuddling under hand-made blankets
Sharing laughs,
Secrets,
Kisses.
Even if I don't have you I will always have your scent,
And the places it takes me are better than the places I have been.

My roots run too deep
to forget you.
The twang of your voice
and your cowboy boots.
The way you wore your wranglers
and your crooked smile.
My mind always goes back to that summer.
Phone calls that lasted forever,
watching the stars,
and holding hands.
I miss your jokes,
your laugh,
your voice.
But I don't miss you.
I know that you are not good for me

This can't happen,
No not again.
I fall too easy,
Misinterpret friendly gestures,
Kind words.
"You are right,
You don't want to get caught up in him,
His issues."
You are so right Mister,
I want to get caught up in you.
But I can't let this happen.
I can't let my mind warp the text messages,
The hugs,
The invites.
I can't ruin this one too.
I like having you as a friend,
I can't mess this one up.
Quick someone talk me out of this,
Tell me it can't happen.
He is too old,
Too talented,
Too tall,
Anything,
Please just tell me it can't work.
Stop me before I wreck my world.

Weddings are a funny thing.
I want to feel happy for the couple,
But my cynical side boils up
Spits acid into my brain
And plays visions of doubts in front of me.
It doesn't help when people ask me why I am still single.
"I am focusing on me this semester.
I don't have time for a boy right now."
That rehearsed lie is the same every time.
Maybe next time I will tell them I am a nun.
At least that way I will have an excuse that they will believe.
Until then I will watch while the girls in white
twirl with their boys in tuxes,
And smile along with the crowd on the edge of the dance floor.