Never will I try again
For I'm nothing in your eyes.
You gave me nothing but pain
And a pair of teary eyes.

I've always given out my heart,
Thinking you're the perfect one.
Instead you're a work of art
A dream so far, like the Sun.

So no longer will I try
When Love is not to be mine.
For my broken heart has died
Even though I still look fine.

I hope that you would change my mind
And show that Love is not a lie.

All those decorations from last season
on your door,
they won't help your fading memories
to last.
Let's admit that we're all ghosts in waiting.
     Knock one back with me.
We can rattle our chains to Christmases past.

Tally up.
Count the sum.
See, I've got a clever face.
But I ain't no plastic monkey on your dashboard.
'Cuz I've done my share of sinning
and I've told my share of lies.
But this heart's built ******* tough like a Ford.

Come again
to the ball.
We can bring along our masks.
We can hide our pretty faces' ugly creases.
We can laugh. We can dance.
We can pretend we're still young.
But we can't deny our dents.
          Not tonight.

No, I won't deny my dents--Not tonight.

Out the door,
night is cold.
Let the band begin again.
Doubt me now, but I am only getting warmed up.
Though you've done your share of dancing,
you're not really wanting out.
Just like me: you never like an empty cup.

Tally up.
Count the sum.
I might be deaf, blind and dumb.
I ain't like the ******* monkeys on your dashboard.
I'm just a ghost in ***** sheets
and I have made my share of beds
and I believe I'll ******* sleep fine tonight.

And you should try and sleep fine tonight.

Well, all those pretty lights, strung up
last season on your door,
they won't help your fading fortitude to last.
Let's confess that we're just ghosts in waiting.
          One more dance with me.
We can haunt this town and recall Christmas past.

*******, words constricting
Woke up, wrong place to live in
Now I find myself hustling
But I can't keep from tossing in
My bed at night
Don't want to breathe and I've got to fight
With all my might crack the walls
And shed some light
On the wrong side of the long night persisting
Inspite of our Hollywood vinyls
And pop star idols
'cause at midnight they bite us
And drink our love.

Imagine work paid off  
And you're never laid off, rough appearance
Won't make them scoff
What if tough heights didn't last long
Or burn so strong, didn't scar your tongue,
And good fun wasn't modest
Like Bollywood's hottest
We'd live the lives loudest
That we could be proudest of.

We forget it all, they've set it small
Well we're all not tall, we just bend down
Let them move your limbs in any given position
Because life's only
A luxurious possession after all.

I long to repeat that thing I never did before

I fear you. I do.
I fear my fascination with you.
I pull away like the planets press against their rings around the sun,
Reaching for the stillness of the dark beyond
But bound by dazzling heat and light.
Sometimes I see my death in your eyes
Like a moth sees its immolation in the filaments of a lightbulb
But sacrifices life to be
For a moment
Finally warm.

I trust you
As much as one can trust something wild:
I understand
That to touch you might leave
Scars on my hands,
But I think that they would be scars
I would cherish in my later years
And trace among the creases of age
As proof that I had lived without regret.

It is not the heat I fear,
In truth
It is the cold.
It is the passing
Of something bright
Close beside me and then
Beyond
Off into the world
Where I may not follow.

It is the blindness that always comes
When I look away from a brilliant light
And am for a moment paralyzed
By the cold certainty that I will never see again:

I would leave you with something to remember me by,
Some love that refuses to fall away no matter the storm,
No matter the chaos of your fire.
Something quiet and constant
And more enduring than I am.

For

I fear not what you are
But what you aren't
Which, like black water,
Will rush in to fill the void
Once you have gone.

Walking alone day after day.  I am a regular.
The giraffes know.  The elephants remember.

The carousel and I go round and round, chasing;
Never catching anything or anyone.  You are gone.

The monkeys at the zoo could never be true to you,
They told me so.  I felt quite sad about it.

The comfort of my own
barren pain
retches sights to the follies
that from onset
have raised me in chains.

I gouge in what might have
come out,
in fear of free-falling
into the core of
potential Without.

Propelled into depths
death has forgotten,
my blank eyes adjust
to riches
of numbness like satin.

Exhausted and pale
I release my last wish
to gaze up at darkness
where stars burn
like *******.

We live in a world of high speed wreckage, so much so that I fear our youth
Have been desensitized to the sight of death and destruction; It's only a
Few clicks away with our media addiction but, that's not what I'm here to
Talk with you about today. No, I think it's time we take a 3 minute break
Of high-speed mentality, to break free of swift reality if only for a moment.
Speaking of moments, I need everybody to close their eyes for a time. No, seriously, close them.
I want to tell you a story that sight cannot settle, no semblance of reality, for
Some things are meant for eyes, others for ears, still yet others are meant
For the mind. For the soul. Let us sail on a ship of sound, a journey, collectively.
Now sit still, and listen.

So what is it we percieve behind eyelids shut tight? Before we fall asleep at night?
On one hand, it is nothingness; no light to comfort us, such a solemn black.
I guess I can't speak for you but, at times I get sad before I sleep. I think back to
Every promise someone didn't keep, all the words I was too scared to speak; or
the whispers my lovers' lips never returned, like "I love you". In short, I
Was lonely. There is something in the act of cutting off sight that leaves me
With a crippling sensation of isolation. But something tells me I'm not the only one
All-too familiar with this sense of suffocation. Somehow I feel as though this is
Shared not only with you, but with the person sitting next to you, and beside them too.
But, I'm not here to depress you, and so let me share some words I once wrote with you;

Lost souls
Drink ink.
But only wither,
With the weather.
Like roses,
Red-
And dead.
But they're beautiful,
You know.

You see, it was a poem I had written around the age of sixteen, and I didn't really get it then but,
"But they're beautiful, you know" was a seed of thought that blossomed in the next few years;
The thought that sometimes the broken things are the most beautiful for they are perfect in the story
That they tell. The story of imperfection; of affection; of sweet affliction; whatever words you
Deem worthy of describing our time here on Earth. Put simply; we are stupid, pointless, silly, exquisite humanity.
Like shattered glass, we can never be what we once were but only arrange ourselves into a magnificent stainglass window,
Allowing the sunlight of our lives to paint a picture of whatever unique self-disciplined blessings we choose to give
And when the sun starts to set, allow me to remind you of this; being along has never hindered the beauty of a sunset over a meadow,
Visible by standing in the treeline on top of a gently rolling hill. And so I dare you, I dare you to live alone, yet married
To the aesthetics of one eye, instead of two. I dare you
to fall in love
with you.

If you haven't already, you can open your eyes now. Our break is coming to a close; soon we'll be back to tweets on twitter
Instead of outside our windows before the sun rises each morning. But after I'm done speaking I hope you can take something with you.
Specifically, the next time you feel like crying yourself to sleep at night; remember this poem. If not in it's entirety, remember just this;
You are stupid, pointless, silly, exquisite humanity and there is not one bone in your body that is not broken or incomparably beautiful.
Know that somewhere I'm out there, hoping that you drift with a smile into sleep.

When assuredness
won't slay its enemies,
and determination
forgets its ardor;
the wind the leaves lets fall,
the water its surfaces harden.