i'm tripping over shoelaces
and falling over beating hearts
while you are watching
with amused, worried eyes.
my fingers turn to ice
and i manage to mumble
"i like your hair" before
the world ends and
my shoelaces are strangling me.

I'm sorry to mumble
But no one seems to care
I am sorry to ramble
But usually no one's there

I hope you don't misunderstand
I'm usually all alone
So I don't know how to talk
When others are home

I know I talk fast
But there's so much to say
A lifetime has passed
And the end's on it's way

So let me get in the last word
God know's it's also the first
A lifetime of silence
And now I'm in a hearse

Why do the words find my pen so appealing and my mouth the opposite?

Why can my Writings express my feelings and my speech barely even scratch the surface?

Where can I find a happy medium between my pen and my mouth
Because it's really killing me to have all these thoughts swirling around in my brain, and not being sure about how they'll come out

Sometimes one moves faster than the other
And it's annoying, not funny like undercover brother

So if anyone knows how, please tell me what am I to do?
Because my head is wired more chaotically than the San Diego zoo

You are beautiful,
You are breathtaking
You are quirky,
You are funny,
You are unique,
You are awkward.
You are weird
You are loveable.
You are you,
And you is pretty
Damm spectacular.

you forgot about things we used to care about together
before everything we had got a little bit harder to have

I guess you could call me a
smooth criminal, if your definition
consists of a slipshod ball of nerves
who just so happens to find nirvana
sliding their fingertips into your pocket.

I've not managed to steal a thing, and
y'know exactly how hard it is to pull off
the greatest heist when my knuckles shake
hard enough to throw California straight
into the ocean.

Shut up.

So what if your hand happens to be right
next to mine?! Don't mean a thing, of course not,
and stop makin' so many assumptions,
you're always puttin' words in my mouth,
'specially when I'm next to ya.

S'fine, I've already finished anyway! Objective
accomplished, reward obtained. Hope ya don't
mind that my hands are little sweaty...

The oppression hangs stiff and unrelenting
And the sincerity comes off too awkward and from left field
I just want to move, but all I can accomplish are twitches in different directions
You're talking at me, not with me
And I'm close to fabricating an elaborate story to put you in shut down mode so that I can continue on my day
I don't care about your message
I'm not buying your book, I'm not reading your pamphlet, and I'm not joining your group.
I'm eating a ******* burrito, and that's IT.