The ceiling fan
stirs up the night
twirling shadows in the dark
I close my eyes
and feel your heartbeat
knowing for sure
you're out there somewhere
falling asleep
listening to mine.

The beat of life
Pounding out an impossible rhythm,
I should have been born a butterfly,
Than without my wings to fly.

525,600 minutes,
And every moment of my year
Wishing I could cast off the old
And become something new.
Something beautiful.
Something spectacular.
The beat goes on,
The pounding of my heart
Matching perfectly.

Hiding behind hats and glasses,
It's potential I'm longing for.
I should have been a butterfly,
My wings are missing.
Wondering,
Waiting.
I don't want to shine,
Only to fly,
Only to rise above it all.
The beat goes on.

Where am I now?
What do I stand for?
Who have I become?
I am not a butterfly...
                                     ...the beat goes on.

The past hurts like an ocean made up of opaque glass.
And you asked me to exist within the shatter-jagged fragments.
An amphibious creature,
Breathing the pain through shredded gills.
Numbed, bruised and bleeding.
Wounds are what they called them.
Battle torn from a thousand different edges.
Don't you feel them?
  The watery shards wedging into your sides,
  Piercing your lungs of the will to exhale.
I feel it, like rough hands upon my neck;
  Tearing through my flesh.  
  Slipping down my throat.
Till I'm choking on red.

You asked, and I confessed.
My passions, the black and the blue.
Inhaling the wine-water,
I want to save you.
Even with an ocean of glass standing in my way.
I want to save you.
Swimming and swimming, until this agony bled away.
I wanted to save you.
Even though I knew I couldn't.
*I wanted to be the one to save you.

Feathers dance across my vision, and I want to gather them all up and store them inside of me.

Maybe they will make me float.

It's like forgetting
A melody you've always known,
A dream that you've flown
Only to crash...

Who am I suppose to be?
I'm ready to question,
Can anyone hear me?
Too many words....

Am I allowed to think
If I can no longer escape?
In less than a blink
I leap...

Chasing away,
Maybe being left is better.
Missing all traced letters,
Yet without I sway...

... F  A    L     L      I        N         G

She's magik
and I am spellbound
caught in a web
spun of her beauty in madness,
and if she would believe me
I would tell her that her eyes shine
brighter than the wheat fields
that glisten in the midday sun.

I want you..
Not to change your mind a hundred times.
I want you.
To show me you care more then you can.
I want you.
Now more then ever.
I want you.
To understand even when noone else can.
I want you.
Not to put yourself down.
I want you.
To love me even when I don't love me.
This is just a few wants that I want even if my wants are wanting wants

Familiar hands tease my throat
With japes and whistles
Like when we returned
The albatross
To it's nest and her children
Hatched violently
Forests in their eyes.
They are my hands and
The clock is heavy with guilt.
Long since he and I acquainted
He knows when I falter, when I ache.
The clock chimes out many times
Each and apology for raising
His hands and so he raised mine too
We match yet
He is guilty, the clock
And I am empty, the envelope
Sealed right with a kiss
A long hairy lick from a muscle
Wet with power and rage.
They are my hands but still
The clock feels guilty.