Death is the absence of life
Dying gives meaning to life

Getting sick of my best friends
Just want to meet some people on the surface
Everyone's a little ugly on the inside
Or maybe I'm just blind, haven't been able to look past it, it just resides

But I don't need to be picked apart by you, and I don't want to pick you apart
Because maybe we're the problem
Maybe I should stop trying and study hard and go to work
Get caught up in this dishroom small talk
Talk to her till I don't have to think anymore and
Get caught up in what could have been

Have you ever stared at the wall so long it started to swell
Thought so long you put yourself into a circle of hell
Sitting there on the front porch in your underwear with a cigarette hanging out the corner of your mouth
Breeze flowing through your hair casting your gaze at  splotchy clouds and roughed suburban shingles that line your crooked vision
Haven't shaved or showered for three days
You don't even smoke but for some reason you like that taste of nostalgia
Grades are in the trash, and you don't even have your chess pieces aligned to start playing
Thinking through ever girl you've used, and every other bar you've been to
Now you're stuck
Sitting ***** with a **** eating grin on your mug
There's never been a more lonely sound then the muffled wall sound of two people who are not
Helps you picture the perfect playground for your imagination to take off
Something that speaks in a language you can't decipher with your own clever English
Put down that pencil, to get out of this you're going to need more than a writing utensil
Where are we going to now, you ask?
Dunno, somewhere new, that sounds pretty good.

Broken conversations,
empty lungs,
doors half open,
hearts almost out of love.

We used to talk of how
we used to be infinite.
But now every second now feels
like a stroke against an unforgiving current.

Our conversations broke
as the flaws of our souls
fell through the cracks of this glass foundation.

These upset words that escaped you
left the air around me a little sad,
a little awake,
and with a lot of echoes.

My lungs went empty
talking you down.

I left the door open for you.
So you can walk in
and slip in quietly-
I won't say a word.

And this heart could never go empty,
not mine.
Yours,
at this point,
I know not.

Flowers never lost their color
as long as you walked this earth.

You fell in love with me.

I just hope you jumped.
Not slipped.

Hide me from these false hopes of life cycles
for they are tempting quietude.

I don't care who I was in my previous life,
as long as I can make this one work.

Take away these choirs of chaos,
for they become mad kings.
And I refuse to be their hymn.

What my reality is
Is not a dream come true
It's a flowing tide of incidents
With people true to who they believe they are supposed to be

What my reality is
Is a mess of circumstance
And an unrivaled openness
That oft scares those afraid of who they are

What my reality is
Is the nightmare that my truth
Leaves me lonely surrounded by those I love

What my reality is
No longer concerns you

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.