Hold on,don't leave me just yet,
I haven't played my last card left.
Whoever you want to see,I'll reflect.

I hope my jokes land right,
Funniest story I know,just to keep you light.
Won't be washing where you just touched
So maybe you'll notice how much you're adored.

It' okay,I'll let you correct
Carve me out,piece by piece
But I'm begging,please
Hold on,don't leave me just yet.

Upon the midnight sky lies a bright star.
The gleam creating my perfect contour along
The marble headstone like a perfectly placed scar.
Meshing into the headstone, I felt like I belonged.

The strong stone resisting it's wear,
But my tears broke into the cracks
Making death's mark fill with air
As the elixir of life delved deep into evil's lair.

I longed for your hand to protrude from the darkness,
To graze the hollows of my face
The sweet poisonous aroma and paleness
Of decay makes me long for your embrace

Six feet under before your immaculate glass coffin,
Our bodies are under pressure; my kisses fading.
Thy lips growing whiter with rejection.
Ice piercing my hear, and affection degrading.

My skin fragile as porcelain and translucent with death.
My tears glistening in the darkness on your skin.
My blood reviving your wounds my dearest Annabeth.
My cries muffled by the punishment of sin.

I prayed for your breath to again leave shivers upon my neck.
But, I've killed you once before.
Now, my coffin has been made, and I laid to rest.

He sings about me,

about my desperation --


Everyone hears it.

I was never yours. You were never mine.  
We never held each other. You know me not.  
I acknowledge you whole, yet I know fractions of your entirety.  

I want to hold you close.  
I want your perfections against my skin, printing on me.  
Even better yet, I want your imperfections on me.  
Stain me with what you call imperfections,  
colour me black with them.  

Tear me apart—with effort.  
Make me yours, for life.  

Let me carry your imperfections,  
of which they hold no weight.  
Let me carry the weight of your perfections.  

Let me pave the road of us.  
Maybe your print will be missing from the first miles of it,  
but your print is everlasting on me.  
And on the road—who can carry the burden of us together?  

A road fractured the instant we met.  
Parallel worlds.  
I fall into a world where vividness falls short of the eye,  
another where light meets colour,  
and my eyes meet you.  

I was never yours—  
or so you say.

His blue eyes have darkened
I know what this means
The man I love is breaking
Traveling
He's on his way
To another place
Where sanity breaks
I step back and prepare for his cries
Cries of desperation to know himself once more
He's here but not
Himself yet another
Lost behind a mesh curtain
Disturbing his veiw of what's real
I see him still
Part way here
And I am frightened
My selfish desires to have him return
I yell and scream inside my head
Searching for a way to make him see that I am right in front of him
That he is still inside somewhere
I worry for us
That it will never be as it once was
My self-obsessed needs
To be free of the person he is not
His anguish is destroying him
Destroying me
I am changing
I'm losing myself
My desperation with the seperation of self
It's tearing me apart
My selfish heart
I need him back to show me that I am not alone
I want this over
I want his strength to return home
I need him back
As he was
Obsessed with me

what do we mean when we say "I miss how things used to be"?
is it a question you'd like to answer yourself
or let float in the air of uncertainty we all live in?

is it a specific period of time we miss or the people in it?
or are we just grieving long-lost opportunities?
from love to occupation, we long for the days of demonstrations.

do we simply miss days when we still had options?
when the doors were wide open and the ground more solid?
when we were giants and moved without caution
when we didn't mourn the feelings we buried

desperation grips
the mind, hell-bent on treason;
the devil grins, proud.