Sympathetic empathas saying words,
That are read from a script,
No one knew how to write,
It's early and cars,
Driving to,
Another paid bill,
Or whatever Thomas said,
Expierences fulfilled by fuel,
Maybe they aren't driving,
Or drinking,
might just be,
making babies in the,
Basement,
Or whatever Keats said,
Distantly dancing,
To kindergarteners and,
cancer patients,
Just another Thursday,
With mystic music,
Lofting around,
The empty dance halls,
Falling up,
With Christopher Robbins,
To the stars,
The bus is on time
Or whatever Dylan said.

It was aboot ten miles away from your fate,
when Taco bell and pigs decided to gang up,
and you didnt realize it till it was too late,
Oh, you knew what you had did,
trying to pour back what is already drank,
like winning the lottery, only to realize there is no money in the bank,
The Mormon Virginia City had struck again,
and took me down to a feeling of a non-man,
where the screaming, the anxiety and the screaming anxiety all met,
the moment you realized you lost the bet,
between you, the devil, the universe, that one friend, the boogy man, God, and the lady down at the farmers market,
you are an easy target,
with a tough bullseye,
and a sly,
liar's smiling lips,
it wasnt till that cold floor touched you,
and your mind's lack of institutional control,
had been realized,
life had surmised,
that the chances you had were faulty tests.

Big John had taken your car with vanity plates,
a joke you want to tell your mates,
but realize the build up is all wrong,
he was the picture of a folk song,
but withoot the music and any good lyrics,
a tow truck mentioned in poems you have never heard,
telling him to hold onto that paper you signatured,
"You're going to famous like everyone else when they go?"
"I wont, but  I'll be nice in the poem everyone will know"
He laughed and kicked you out.

A new song that has a ****** tune,
starts to sound nice soon,
and you will appreciate it by your life's noon,
rough memories turn into life lessons, that turn into rough memories,
but you dont know you are in an ocean till you passed some seas,
so you drive away from the  town that built the great ****,
with a face of weather, guilt, and an unknown nostalgia for the future.

Going back to that empty house is my biggest fear,
walk in the door and everything gone,
and no cigarette smoke to make everything clear,
with no best friend and no running water, this isnt real its a con,
it has to be,
I'll pack as fast as I can just to get out to sea,
leave my small town and just leave,
but its never so simple for packing takes time,
and I'll tell myself everything will be fine,
but this anxiety is a stone in the bottom of my stomach,
that never stops rolling,
this is no home anymore just a doorway,
to a place that I can not stay,
so I'll run away as far as I can,
and all the memories from the past month from my mind I'll ban,
look back someday and think they wore better,
but by then happiness will hopefully be in my grasp or in within reach,
because I'll be serenading girls who dont know what I'm saying,
at the beach.

News feeds and nose bleeds,

staring back through the screen,

shouting, and screaming,

everyone is doing fine if you catch my meaning,

photographers and band members,

but the poet, no one remembers,

singers are showing their songs,

and painters are filling their bongs,

messengers going on benders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

they are burning up the page,

with their eyes filled with ambitious rage,

saying things that have meanings to another,

everyone likes,

everyone acts like future lenders,

but the poet, no one remembers,

everything is great,

in the pictures they take,

doing something that matters to the rest of the Earth,

people heralding what they have done since their birth,

born into ambition,

showing another used up rendition,

to them, it is but just the beginning of soon to be embers,

but the poet, no one remembers

A car flips over and crashes through my wall,
a person in red,
with eyes of a thousand pasts,
and a smile of relatability,
they ask if I wanted to take their place,
in a game space,
I ask what I need to do,
a scavenger hunt,
without the first clue,
so I took the car and drove wherever there was sky that was blue,
I met them and saw you,
everyone was 5 steps ahead and working,
towards some kind of end,
so letters and conversations I send,
asking where to begin,
no one can tell me because no body knows,
they just know they are beyond a step,
a step of feeling blue,
because they at least have the first clue,
and I am just going through the hole in my wall,
and going back to bed.

You sell your paintings on the street,

I sell my writing on the black market,

we will keep at it till we meet,

I will sing my lyrics on an old carpet,

you will paint until your pictures bleed,

I will write with such a need,

you paint to make things real,

I write just to feel,

we will keep at it even if there is no meal,

you paint to scream,

I write to forget my nightmare, my dream

You paint with colors dark and bright

I write to make things right,

you paint with emotion,

I write what is in sight,

we will keep at it till this festival is revealed to light,

you paint what you see,

I write to see me,

you paint in the parts of this screaming town,

I write to make a lover wear a wedding gown,

we will keep at it till there is no sound.

You paint about me in this dizzy trance,

and I will write about you in advance,

we will keep at it till the end of our dance

and show each other what we have done.

I see a door,
not closing like before,
opening with grandeur and grace,
inside a beautiful place,
that I have seen a million times but never laid my eyes on it,
so I wait and sit,
surrounded by black,
till a hand reaches oot and gives my face a smack,
"we are all waiting and you keep us hung up like you always do,"
a warm touch on my now red cheek,
its my Naru and she's smiling bright,
begging me to come into the warm light,
I take the steps to go through the doorway,
a perfect end to a tragic play,
everyone I see is smiling at me,
with drinks and cigarettes that dont ****,
this is my death, my thrill,
"do you believe in an afterlife?"
I believe in a door opening to the loves of my life.

I miss,
everyone I have ever met,
all at the same time,
nostalgic faces I don't know,
forever and
tonight.

Dear my small world,
It's early and teenagers are walking to school,
the sun is warm and cool,
my eyes are closing as I pass them by going the other way,
my old friend creeps on me and reminds me of a spring mountain day,
being those kids walking slow,
not knowing the episode,
but enjoying the show,
their mountains are just a brighter green,
my old friend gets in my stomach and the top he tends to lean,
the smells of anxiety and the fear of uncompleted homework,
make me smile,
I pass by swings and see my world become night,
and two kids in Florida are in my sight,
talking aboot nonsense but still returning to smile and laugh,
it becomes funny and two drunk kids in Reno take their place,
I can tell who they were but I couldn't see a face,
my old friend creeps to my mouth and my past I can taste,
I suddenly am on the swings holding my hand in front,
staring at a star,
reaching out with one eye closed I feel like I can grab it,
my eyes open and I almost take oot some teenager,
something's die hard I say,
and they look the other way,
and say, "ok crazy",
the past maybe getting hazy,
but the feelings never die.

Phone a ringing,
first time since yesterday as the day  was a gleaming,
my life isn't straight,
and I don't want to wait,
but keeping me here isn't a house,
its a girl that laughs like a mouse,
wishing to take it all away,
I choke and say,
goodbye and hang it up,
bags a packed and cant burn no fire,
I'm a terrible liar,
when I say goodbye,
because how can one be good,
the word is used and misunderstood,
you called in a time of need,
and I was to tired to say what was right,
phone a ring, first time since yesterday,
when all you wanted me to say,
was **** them, and you are the one that makes me ok.

Dance with me,
so baby maybe you'll see,
my bright points,
and my poorly rolled joints,
dance with me in every way,
I can hope with your eyes,
and I want you to stay,
going through a beautiful loop,
we try not to,
take your hand and dance in lieu,
the fact I never could stay,
but in the end I'm just a child,
and I'll always be this way.
Marry me.

Christmas Eve gets easier,
to go to bed,
every year

Woke up early,
Put on the work outfit
brushed my whites pearly,
Left my backpack at the stop,
Booked it back,
Found my pack,
Reached in my pocket to grab my pen,
Found it had exploded,
What then!?
Boss doesn't respond,
And I just need to be at a pond,
Not thinking about where I am going,
Not thinking about what I will sow,
A easy day would be nice,
To much to think, but does entice,
Just need to be at that lake,
Need to be at that parking garage,
But I am in traffic watching the clock,
What else can this day bring?
A ring on my phone and I'm not answerin,
Boss leaves a voicemail blarin,
Ignored it till I got there,
Walked in with a blank stare,
Wonderin' when life will be fair,
Changin' somethin,
Thinking aboot nothin',
Getting that carpal tunnel,
Then go to sleep,
Trying to shut my mind off to answers I know I can't seek,
Guess it's just another day in the week,
So I try to focus on the music and the beat,
****,
I don't know what else to say,
Cept that it's only ******* Monday.

I desire to see what holds tomorrow,
but I dread it will end in sorrow,
it just might,
I desire to love you once again,
but I dread it's inevitable end,
who's to say it will?
I desire to stay here tonight,
and dread the dreams that end in sweat and fright,
maybe we are just playing a game,
I desire to hear your voice even when it's dead,
but I dread when we are just wait for what needs to be said
it has a chance to work,
I desire to wait,
but I dread it's fate,
I look down,
are there no more?
is this just the fates trying to show their power?
I will pick up another flower.

Stepping oot into the air,
and it burns your lungs so you question your dare,
in particular there is no where,
that is pushing you oot there,
but a when,
the dark street adds and takes away,
as film reels play blue memories from brighter days,
were they really that great?
because you were still walking late,
when it was still cold,
but the reels dont stop,
and the nostalgia makes you check the clock,
to make sure your still in the right tight time
turn off the films, put 'em back in the corner of your mind
where they always reside,
and just go back inside.

Approaching Station,
Exit to left,
Passes please,
Discounted and undiscovered,
Are the tracks still broken?
Hand loosing it's grip,
As the content contentment,
Starts to rise,
Dreamers can't have dreams,
When passed oot,
Trying to shake,
Tattooed faces,
Security let's it go,
When glasses cant stop staring,
An angel with Diamondback wings,
Trying her best to keep it all together,
While puting on shoes,
That aren't on her feet,
Rushing to the other car she saves another soul,
Central ave,
Centralized humility with mangled humanity,
He's alive,
But rarely living,
Loved,
But wondering where it is,
Art district and,
**** I've listened to this song too many times,
Poetry on rails,
******* railed by poetry,
Glasses terrified by realness,
They all deserve better,
Would they know what to do with it?
Exit to left,
The angel let's her sister go,
The door closes,
She checks,
The rail only has so many stops,
It's quiet,
The significance of the moment,
Discovered then discarded,
She's asleep.
He's not waking up,
She leaves,
Approaching station.
1st ave,
Passes please.

(I end this one similar to my previous which kinda annoys me, but ***** it, its my writing right?)

She said its fine,
And I smiled at the line, A dance with the past, That is going to last, I can feel it and crave it, But I'm terrible at the talking bit, Hopefully she can see past my awkwardness, And my inability to not stammer, Because in my head my heart starts to pound like a hammer, So I lock these in my souls slammer, Because I hear her laugh and smile, and take what I can for a sign, That its all going to be fine.

I see you,
In greater conversations
And small
Talks,
Lost in time,
But,
Weighted in a reality,
That the years
Exist,
Through small lines,
Near your eyes
Are histories,
That most miss,
I see you,
In stanzas of songs,
Reminding you
Of home,
Nights of sweat and smoke,
Paired with a hopeful abandon,
Of living forever
But praying for death
By
Their kiss,
I see you,
In prose and rhymes,
Of books upon books,
With eyes heavier than
The pride,
You wish you saw in your father's,
The legs sore,
Because you forgot what it's like
To not try to run,
I see you,
In the moments,
In the
In between,
The indescribable
Deep breath photographs
That make up the flashes
Of phone calls and razors edges
On linoleum,
With Fate's scissors
Being put back in the box,
I see you,
Through the hidden smiles,
That convey a sense of mystery,
Forcing my uncontrolled
Outbursts,
To see what other
Smirks and eye rolls
That even you are surprised
When they are uncovered,
Like the gaunt archeologist
I treasure them,
And put them on display
At my memories museum,
I see you,
In the days
You are away,
When shirts and the sounds
Of morning coffee contemplations
Are the only things
Keeping me sane,
I see you,
In future momentary messages,
And past years pudding proof,
That with all the moments,
Yet lived,
That
Will let me,
See you.

Think of her as the pills go down the hatch, ask for a cigarette and strike the match, think of her as take a drag, try to hide that your mad, mad at you and yourself, take a drag think of her and cry over your degrading health, breed the pity, and walk with a crutch, old man you can't take much, before you wind up here, stare at dying the dying cigarette with fear, two more doesn't matter, when its all that's left.

A criss cross,
forever remembering and always forgetting what we loss,
a forever skating of our lives,
a distant memory of a lie,
the strings that twist our lives and hearts,
we look back to the pages that are blanked,
we look back with a panic,
and people call us manic,
"just move on" they say with a sly tone,
but they don't realize,
is we want them to answer their ******* phone,
I'll flip the pages to read tomorrow,
because I pray there is less sorrow

I loved that smile,
no one inside,
inside is beckoning.

I said marry me,
in sly tones and a sense of decency,
she said I was drunk and needed a nights rest,
so I said she out of all my friends was best,
eating pancakes she had to go,
I'll sit here and watch the snow,
I hate this show,
my life and every song,
so I texted her and asked, "why does it feel so wrong?"
no one has an answer because they feel it too,
I guess I'll see it,
when the snow falls anew.

It won't stop in my ear,
a ring and no one is answering,
no one will pick up,
a stupid cause with no end,
take care I send,
but to no response,
this is the end.

I told her,
He'd,
Regret it,
That she holds the stars,
And he was too busy asking,
Why she held them,
So tightly,
Words come under
Snapshots of looks that
Have effects,
So long,
So deep,
It's a memory on our make-up,
I want to put a fist through his face and heal him
Back up,
Just to break it
Again,
I want to make poems
That make her famous,
So that people look to
Loved ones
And smile knowing
That they exist,
I want to remind her
How the ocean air feels
And tastes
When she feels at home,
I want to remind her,
That she makes me feel at
Home,
So that for one minute,
She would feel the
Freedom
She gives me freely,
But,
Realizing you are human
And
Knowing,
That on the other end of the silicon and circuits,
Lies a greater distance,
Than just the thousands
Of miles that make it up,
So,
I speak,
In shakey syllables,
Aboot distorted dreams
That come out as
"I'm sorry's" and
Weird eye twitches
In front of showers
Because I want to drown in
Thoughts and forgotten conversations
I should have held tighter,
I spoke with uneasy words,
Telling,
You,
That he'll regret it,
You spoke with broken typed words,
"I dont think
Think so."

We always do.

Because you hold the stars,
And I,
Kept asking,
Why you  held them,
So tightly.

I messaged with words that sound written down,
they were,
got a new courage that has been found,
I didnt trail off, but the world lost it's sound,
who knew?
I guess you would had to have if it really made sense,
trying to appreciate his recompense,
It's cloudy and I hear the rhymes,
but that doesnt take care of all the I'm fines,
I hear it and want to hug you,
so wrapping in written syllables,
I try to believe in miracles,
hoping that you can see the prayers coming out of my head,
when you saw my smile instead,
calling me your best friend,
Sending songs you'll forget,
but I bet you'll feel at home,
so I'll send them along with a phone,
full of mysteries that will plague us both.
Don't dare to say you miss me the most,
because I raise my coffee in toast,
that you'll be happy tomorrow,
and at least smile today,
spoken with fiery words in sentences that arent coherent,
So i guess I'll tuck in my shirt to see that smirk,
and remain in adherence,
as my poem fades away,
and I'll sign off with a tackle and a dance,
and thank God again for poetic miles,
and happenstance.

I hope you feel better.

Hours speed,
Up on weekends and I,
Think about this while,
The smells of soap and sobriety,
Creep like layers of,
A cake that I've just began eating,
But the minutes feel,
Like a,
Laundromat waiting room,
In purgatory,
In between your messages,
That force my,
Script writing pen,
To be set down,
I never am right,
When I try to write,
What your next line will be,
Your smiles are sometimes,
Hidden beneath a,
Sadness,
That I can only try to coax,
With cheese,
To see it's broken body,
But,
That sadness isnt some broken board,
In an old house,
that needs to be fixed
It's needing the,
Appreciation,
That if it was repaired,
It would loose it's history,
And that awesome broken board,
Doesn't make,
The whole whole house,
It makes it,
Unique,
Unique in the way that,
I wake up in the middle of the night,
Grasping my bed,
For,
That person that has never been there,
But,
Is there every night,
I can appreciate the grabbed sheets,
Because I can appreciate the new year,
Like that amazing house with,
History,
I find new things,
New rooms,
With new broken boards,
And new broken bodies,
Except this year I can remember,
All of it,
And,
I got a new batch of cheese,
Time to get oot of the shower,
And,
Walk through,
That first room.

She told me to go away,
when all I wanted was to have her stay,
to run is easy,
and I'll take her heartbreak,
as long as I have a stake,
in hher life and her heart,
but she ran from the start,
and I'm just staying at still.

A jacket I used to keep her warm,
clothes that I have worn,
too many in a box,
sitting at her house with locks,
I sent the message,
**** it I tried.

Telling myself to start afresh,
but change and I could never mesh,
who can? I say alloud,
to shake this and I need to feel proud,
to my parents and my ghosts,
I need to be the host,
instead of being just another guest,
start afresh,
leaving before I know,
but still feeling stupidly low,
what to do when you need to start anew?
guess I'll pack my bags.

I see you in
Girls on the bus writing in notebooks,
With notes,
Only their soul will understand,
In walks,
With music flickering to the street,
Lights and street lies,
The beats with my steps,
I see you in storm clouds,
Sliced by layers of light,
Through anxiety fights,
With attacks coming from places unknown,
Surrounded with an armor of well sown,
In dances too songs you never
Wanted to listen to,
Yet here we are,
The clouds became rain,
The anxiety has passed,
The song has changed,
The cord has been pulled,
And the stop is ahead,
I'm home,
And I still see,
You.

Who deems a life a tragedy,
God or The Poet.

Hey kid,
I remember you from a year ago, Not knowing where you're going to go, Watching the snow, Drift down from the loading docks, And staring counting down time on clocks, Im telling you to not rush, but that's all you want to do, And its not till you are on the edge staring at the blue, Drinking way more than one or two, You almost will die more times than you'd like, And you have dreams every night aboot you're faceless wife. Don't worry kid, its the worst year of you life, But you make it through, Like a champion, you stand gallantly with armor made of everything that tried to **** you, You'll realize you're parents deserve better, Even though they will still say, "you're the best thing that has happened to me son." in their letters. You're friends are the strongest crop you know, And all you'll want to do is show, Everything that they did was not all for nigh, So hold your head up high, Hey kid, I remember you from a year ago, And I want you to know, Everything will be fine.

She is gone,
I should have stayed with the song,
but i couldn't love so long ago,
now I hear ******* and go,
why do networks exist?
if not to feel bad for our sins o' list?
I am falling asleep to your picture,
but like a useless lecture,
you will ignore it,
so **** this ****,
I'll send messages saying I am sorry,
but I would have better luck turning air into gold in a quarry,
a simple line,
that my life depends on the line,
it's ok

I said I'm sorry in a tone,
I always feel alone,
but you know the right words,
a humming to rival birds,
as you clean the dishes,
I proclaimed I'll make you proud,
in a voice so loud,
even rocks thought it was true,
no resentment no grudge,
even though you'll never budge,
on seeing me better than what I am,
so as I know I can call once the day is done,
every hero was a son,
I couldn't ask more and I hope my own sees me like I see you,
no other words can be my hero my father,
but I love you.

Lightning past the wells Fargo building,
Central and pima,
The build up is always stronger
Than the break apart,
Cozy houses showing lives that we can always fantasize about,
Smells of rain,
Tastes like electric feels,
Clouds of vapor play with the fears of yesterday,
Were all underneath something,
Because we don't know what else to do,
It's more of a drizzle,
But the lightning pays no mind,
Reflective headlights bounce back thoughts,
The road is barely wet,
And the skyline seems to know it,
It's a good feeling,
Watching that lightning,
Maybe someone else,
Is fantasizing about,
That cozy house too.

This'll be the last one I write you,
As twilight turns blue,
And black again,
The sun rises eventually,
And the sunset was too beautiful
To miss,
A song on repeat,
That sounds like me,
And feels like you.
I smile at what we had,
You smile at what we became,
Regardless, at least we are smiling.
Deserved love, but undeserved lovers,
But a love nonetheless.
We doubled booked venues,
There isn't a show to steal anymore,
But you're solo act will knock them dead.
I'm proud of what you are,
I'm disappointed that I don't get to act out,
The rest of the scene,
At least it was beautiful while we were on stage.
So, put down the lines,
And turn the page,
This will be the last one that I write for you,
But I look forward to the one,
You write, for you.

I asked,
why up so late?
begging myself to ask for a date,
falling asleep in a drunken dream,
everything is what it may seem,
asked a random girl for a date,
never did and I guess that is what I hate,
leaving soon and should have done it sooner,
unanswered phone and I'm loosing my religion.
keep writing till the end of the bin,
this being that is my greatest sin.

I don't write these very well,
But here it goes,
The fragility of a Sunday night,
In between talks and smiles,
Little words with big implications,
Sometimes much isnt said,
But it's always enough,
It's always tough standing outside,
Saying the good nights and safe ride,
The creeping on of tomorrow,
When yesterday went too soon,
I feel like a kid,
Who has to go to school the next day,
But instead of seeing the hallways and the homework,
I wont be seeing you,
So I hold on tight to tonight,
And tighter to the chance of seeing you again,
I look ahead not because it's easier,
Than what I've had in the past,
Or because it's softer,
It's because it's just you.
The beauty of normalcy,
Entranced by the renewed excitement,
That we have today.
Today, it was after the rushed slow down,
The lingering smell of coffee and sobriety,
Driving home, with hope driving,
Speeding through the stretched desert with windows down,
That I realized,
The slow step into infinity
Is what I've built my second chance life around,
And I get to take each one,
Holding the hand that belongs to you.
With each leg lifted,
There are a million songs sang together,
Thousands of documentaries,
Hundreds of screams from jump scares,
And tens of adorable animals,
But it all comes back to one night.
The night I met you.

She's waking up, and already in his head,
Lucidly in hers as I go to bed,
a different world apart,
it's cold and her coffee is hot,
it's hot and he cant bring his Polar Pop back,
from the mini mart,
both dancing to obscure tunes of knowledge,
both hanging onto,
but jumping off incredible ledges,
to what?
Whatever everyone seems to have so whatever figured out,
she reveals her smiles through a new different colored pout,
and he hides his smiles in words,
that get jumbled in your jaw,
they can only see what they saw,
in text messages and telephone towers,
as if being worlds apart gave them super powers,
she was dead living,
he was living dead,
worlds apart,
waking and going to bed.

Piggly Wiggly sleeps,
and snores,
behind,
closed doors,
while someone is cleaning a door,
jam,
others are questioning where they are,
a poet,
reads words in a bathroom stall,
someone down the hall,
whisper shouting in another,
stall,
asks, "What's the point to all this?"
rehab in winter,
rehab in fall,
a **** and a smile,
but a reminder,
you get in what you get out,
sixty one days sober,
breaking the record every day,
the poet flushes away,
is internal frown,
complaining companions move onto the windows,
piggly wiggly dreams aboot,
bacon and ****,
another record,
the poet asks his higher power,
please let it last,
one day at a time,
everyone stops,
sloppy joes & cigarettes,
for,
lunch.

Nonsense hiding in an autobiography,
Starting down dusty roads,
Where you truly found yourself,
Daring the mountains and questioning the cold,
To high rises with coke that guy you didn’t know too well brought,
She was there naked and gleaming,
Maybe she had od’d but ****,
She’s great at acting,
Just ask her mom,
You saw her face before,
In flashes of hot breath playing against,
Folk songs and guitars in a punk bathroom,
You didn’t know the faces then,
But you will,
Trust me,
You will,
Weren’t you there at the great protests,
Arm bands and water riots?
You saw what they saw,
But really,
“it’s poetry, not an autobiography”
Spelling errors speak to those who are deaf,
And you say it like it’s fact,
What else do you got?
You remember staring down a gun,
That didn’t belong to you,
In fact it wasn’t aimed at you,
It was aimed at them and all you could do was shake,
But the shakes don’t change when you,
Wake up the same,
You cant shake you,
You told me that while we layed in the sun,
Pointing out constellations,
I said,
It’s morning,
Why talk?
All I heard was a sigh,
But through the onomatopoeias,
I heard things like,
You cant see the stars but the sun still shines,
Whatever that means,
the rest of the day didn’t matter,
and you traveled again,
where’d you go now?
Maybe your letter will help,
Or maybe the call you sent is the way you,
Tried to send a pick-me-up,
Or maybe it’s just *******,
Either way,
Yea,
Either way,
We’ll answer.

Picturing her is tough,
you'd think it'd be easier,
when I dream of her enough,
she's got brown hair with a past that's a little rough,
I mean relatability,
is on the key ring of comfortability,
a good smile,
and the first to kiss or say "I love you" first every once in a while,
a plus if she can write,
and not feel ashamed to sometimes be the first to apologize after a fight,
she's someone not looking to be found,
healthy and (superficially) not super round,
but can eat quesadilla's and chocolate cake in bed,
who listens,
but also knows what needs to be said,
a girl who giggles & smiles at my cheeesyness,
and says that it's ok that my life is a mess,
she makes love instead of *******,
(sometimes a good **** is what we need though)
Knows how to get me oot of my head,
and is self reliant,
but also has trouble watching me leave,
she'll be fine with dancing/singing/kissing me in the rain,
and know all the right words and moves to drive me insane,
thick hair like a mane,
and doesnt care if I'm poor or have fame,
she'll appreciate my crazy music,
and will take care of me when I'm being a ****** when I'm sick,
who wants kids and that awesomely typical house,
she'll be loving and empathetic,
Loving Bob Dylan and dogs,
shorter than I is a must, and know's how to be the sun in my times of fogs,
adventuring but doesnt mind  a good netflix and chill,
her eye's will be revealing,
with every look my heart she'll be stealing,
smooth sexiness withoot the need to be based on touch and feeling,
kissable lips,
grab worthy hips,
a girl I could laugh with for the rest of my life,
an honest wife.

I'll dream of her with a certain notoriety,
hoping I find her,
after a year of sobriety.

Sunsets hidden behind palm trees,
Breaks in buildings,
Give the blinders and spot,
To stop today,
And begin tomorrow,
Street light stunts,
Neighbors with smiles of strangers,
Strained,
Just trying to get that bit of change,
Rushed hours turn off light switches,
To rush hour,
Cant get through it quick enough,
We're trying, but it's rough,
Battles brushed off by that alarm clock,
Watching the sunrise with stills of cameras,
That we're coloring in the blank edges,
Knees hurting and the same song sang loudly, on
Repeat,
The street lights turning off,
Like the memory of catastrophes,
That had turned on last week,
We enjoy the breaks,
And the sunset.