when the moment is tight
pause goes too long
feelings is awkward
do the gesture
show all the stupidity of being the human

letting it go too far over
whispering lines none too sober
deep into superficial radical concerns
but the comfort theme overall well stirred
fulfilling holes by plain symbolic gestures
miming intentions in meaningless false truths–

eyes on the pistol, the cure as a symbol.

Where are your pieces?
A touch will fix it
Your stillness turns me
Violent with anticipation
Direct me towards you
I won't mind the way

A gesture to peal my skin
Spread my emotions
Draw in the atmosphere
Bring the art of love
Straight in to you
Sign the masterpiece
Inside you

Let's be honest here,
On this enlightened day.
Here I stand in fear,
Not exactly sure what I should say.
I stand before you,
Trembling in fright,
My sad reality has come true,
As I keep my composer with all my might.

Look, yes, I make mistakes,
More than most seems,
I know I made your heart ache,
But know it haunts my dreams.
You are my friend,
And this friendship I don't want to end,
Because of my stupidity,
My dishonesty
And certainly my arrogance.

Here I stand before you,
Asking, begging, for forgiveness.
A request, not an order.
A true mess of an offer.
But yet here I still stand,
Holding out my hand,
A gesture that I hope for you to take.
A gesture to mend the broken pieces.
A gesture of a friend.
A gesture I hope for you to take.

My Foe cluttered down the pit
He painstakingly dug for me
         To pitch down
            Head first
                *
             *
                 *
             *
             V
             V

Oh where did I go?
"What a shame!"
They'd all say as I'd sit
Waving my white flag
"I hope you feel better!"
One always blurts out
With eyes of pity and curiosity
Creeping over my being
What a terribly awful gesture
You see I too hope I'll feel better
Oh but please tell me
How can one do so
When all that surrounds are onlookers

he's like monday
loathed, but still attended to

he walks like passion
he talks like passion
he gestures like passion
he does everything with passion
i hope he'd have for me

You are

the sigh in every moment
the wish in every breath
the dream in every gesture
the hope that stills regret.

You fill my days with visions
my nights with thoughts aflow'r
i find myself whisp'ring plans
and counting down the hours.

...but still, through this, i wonder:
what do You see in me...?
i feel as though Your touch amends
my lack of symmetry.