Don't be afraid.
The apostrophe is purposeful -
It connects you to your neighbour,
Although this is your terminal
You're permeable. Like the apostrophe.
I pass through you. Like aircrew
Only here for the flight, and not the
Destination. I digress. I must alight.
This is my terminal, and we are not connected.
Do not be afraid.

I only wish to be by your side
I wish for it every single night,
but you didn’t bring me along for the ride,
infact you didn’t take notice until I was out of sight.

Bury me alive,
don’t leave me at the door.
I’ve been stretching this drive
down to the corner store.
I’ve been chain smoking,
and breathing the cold air skies,
I’ll tell you that I’m joking,
and if you cover my ears, I’ll cover your eyes.

I’ve been trying to catch the ocean,
but ended up drowning in her eyes.
I’m stashing away every emotion,
and she accuses my sentiment for lies.
I want to go on a joyride,
I want to drive away but not to hide.
I want to go on a joyride,
but I’m feeling alone and you’re not by my side.
So I’ll turn up the music,
and ignore my pride.

Travelling the dark street
of that old quiet ghost town,
the ferret was very discreet,
but warned of us of the bear and to slow down.
Losing track of time and missing our exit,
with conversations holding a life of their own.
I’ll remind you so you won’t forget it,
now I’ll drive that highway completely alone.

Bury me alive,
oh wait, you made the shallow grave.
I’ve been stretching this drive,
it’s pitch black but I remind you to be brave.
I’ve been listening to our favourite song,
the lyrics I easily memorize.
Eliza Dushku’s turn was wrong,
but if you be my ears, I’ll be your eyes.

I know your measurements; head to toes,
and you’re perfect just the way you are.
You know I love how you look in my clothes
when you sit beside me in my dark car.
And all the streetlights went out
as we silently took a joyride,
it’s not unusual for me but I have my doubt,
that it wasn’t amplified by her by my side.

I need a strong yin
to rein me in
to be by my side
kicking my shin
when I need to restrain
my under their skin
to pull me out of my dive
and control my fast spin

it's then that my watson,
my bucky, my tonto
comes into their own
and suppresses my ego
So don't go when I strut
when I trigger disgust
just stand by my yang
and balance me up

love is like a dance.
a constant flowing,
moving,
changing rhythm.
sometimes passionate,
whirling,
beating,
flowing.
sometimes slow,
peacefully gliding
through somber moments
in our lives.
then there are moments
when joy taps,
thumps,
sparking happiness
between dancer’s heels.
and the dance never ends,
for dancing with you
is my desire.
be it flamenco,
tap,
or slow.  


by: e.p

Wake into a dream state, baby.
I'll be your second best escape.
You come running to me, baby.
You keep my soft heart safe.
Wake into a dreamlike state,
knowing you have a lookout in E.V.A.
When I, too, dig too deeply
to take alone, you're out on the rope.
What did I do, then, to deserve
a glimpse of this happiness,
soft like my heart? My mama told me
it was nonexistent, and
I certainly bought it -- but then, you.
What provoked you? What did I do?
Can it be that my existence is the
cause of your attraction?
I need to break free.
What sense does that make?
Can I run from love til
I kiss the coffin in grave?