You may not remember
But I do
The night you said
"I kind of miss you."

1 represents my existence on planet earth
A good 9 years of innocence childhood fire
9 more to exhibit my love to the girl who lift my heart higher
Here is 8 years to begin a new path

I want to hold you
And trap you in the sap of these pines
Because I know you would not run,
You find beauty in the ugliest of places.

I want to lock you in a cedar box
And leave you be until you beg my name
Because I know you like the smell,
You always were more with nature than I.

I want to hang you up in a great oak
For the whole world to see
Because I know you think you're wretched,
But you're beautiful to me.

The hermit and his hand
Sticky fingers and solitude
kama sutra of the fingers

The Peanuts Christmas Music
is already playing on the radio
It's impossible to grab a loaf of bread
or a gallon of milk with out hearing
So many memories
it makes me so sad to hear
The sound of the piano
a part of me hears it, dies inside
thinking of those times that are gone
but were always kind of sad in the first place

But then why does a part of me
secretly love this feeling
Why does it feel good to be so
utterly sad?
Similar in effect to the child watching a
scary film through strategically placed fingers
they do not want to be scared but deep down
they secretly love to be afraid
Why do we do this to ourselves?
And why are most not honest about it?
Why are we broken?
Or maybe we are not

I never liked the Peanuts anyway

i. in my dream, you ask me to connect your freckles with my 19 coloured pens. i create the constellations reflected in your eyes. you kiss me. i wake up.

ii. you ask me to play the bars of the same song that made us both cry and shiver on different continents before we knew each other. i leave the airport the happiest and the saddest i've ever been. happysad.

iii. you sing at 3 am at the back of the bus. i sit at the end of the same row. my head hurts from banging against the window while i try to look at the moon, instead of you.

iv. we sit on the tram and pretend to fix all your problems.

v. i sit up at 2 am and cry at my mistakes. i wonder if i make you the happysad you make me.