When she is sad.....
Tears roll down.....
My eyes....
When she is sad....
There is extreme pain....
In my heart.....
Feels like....
We are close.....
But very far.....
When she is sad...
Heavens cry.....
The rains fall down.....
Winds are angry.....
Telling me that.....
I am not worthy.....
So I try.....
With all my might.....
That her sadness......
Never ever can come....
In my sight....
Her smiling face...
Is the lovely....
Scene I miss.....
Her happiness.....
Is the only thing......
I need from her......
As a promise......

When she is happy.....
Everything seems fine.....
The wind also....
Sings a lovely rhyme.....
The river draws.....
A pretty picture.....
Which I think....
Is a lovely gesture.....
The heavens applaud.....
The amazing phenomena.....
My heart is also......
Smiling.....
Eyes showing....
The tears.....
One thing is...
Sure....
Her looks......
Are surely....
Mesmerising.....

I will always love you;
Stupidly, foolishly, recklessly.
Spiraling downward, endlessly.
A connection that spans the seas, the oceans;
One that ignores pleas or motions,
One that steamrolls over dismissals,
Ignoring any and all commotion.

Maybe it’s because you’re the closest I’ve been to love.
Maybe it’s because I felt whole with your head gently resting on my chest.
Seeing you again now makes me forget what happened back then.
Your smile is like a sunset, a warm caress that puts me to rest.
It makes me forget that we’d turned our relationship into a battleground,
A battlefield painted red with the innards of innocence for the brushstroke.
A place where hopes were grounded to dust,
And pain’s parasitic relationship with distrust was profoundly compounded.

It’s almost 5 in the morning;
I miss you, even though I saw you yesterday.
This irresolutely irrational passion of mine,
These two paths that just want to intertwine,
These glances and moments that send chills down my spine -
They shouldn’t be here anymore, but they are.

Maybe, it’s because I’m alone,
And you’re the only face that feels like home.
Maybe, yours is the only embrace I can hold;
Maybe, I’m just being foolishly bold.

They say find what you love,
And let it ruin you.
Here I am, like the remains of the Parthenon;
Here I am, standing ready, ready to be led on.
Ready, bracing myself to be destroyed once more;
Ready to burn like a lit match that met fuel that’s seeped into your pores.

That is what you and I are;
I am the lit match, and you are the fuel.
Together, we make ashes of kingdoms,
Petty serfs of kings.
And an absolute mess of ourselves.
I don’t care about being right or wrong, anymore;
I just want us to make sense of things,
And see what destiny’s got in store.

Lost in space
The silence is deafening
I can hear the sorrow of my heartbeat
The vacuum of it's suffering
Lost in space
The silence is threatening
I can hear......
........ .....Nothing. ........

where do mattresses go when they leave your home?
do they hitch a ride back to Oregon
that place that you only pitched as an idea for a funny road trip
but never actualized
instead the map with all the pins of the places you've visited
has become the places you'll go and now it's slanting askew  
because your sense of perception is always a little crooked
do they sit by the curb of a dilapidated 7-11 and watch everyone
give them bedroom eyes
is there such a thing as pining or are we naturally drawn to the new?
something foreign that can be learned with time and patience
but the patience runs out like the water in the bag where that fish you won at the fair came in
and when you got home there was only plastic and the rubbery upside down belly of fish scales in an airless vacuum

do they enter through the window and shimmy under the
other dusty things in the attic?
Do they make themselves at home telling you stories of
everything they've seen and don't you wish that
the guests always stayed longer than you could hope for
but forever is not in your cards, it's not even in the receipts
you horde in the kitchen drawer
forever is stuck under the couch but you never check
because it's easier to just sit and think about it

Bones of books
Stacked up on shelves
The scoured
And devoured
Doused in vinegar
Sterilized after the wrath
Leaf green lies
Stripped away by bleach
The world is clean
Scented with coffee
No wildfire romance
No breathtaking view
Just me and you
Imperfect fools

I met someone today
With cute black clothes
And a long trench coat
We walked to the park
To sit on the swings
We talked as we watched
All the cars in the street
She told me all her stories
Of almost being arrested
For smoking ****
So why does every cute girl
And every edgy guy
Have to get high
And listen to MCR
Where are my preppy goths
My ****** band members
Because I'm just a punk
Who doesn't do drugs
And wants some friends
My parents won't hate