A lot can happen in four years
I whispered while your fingers were in my hair.
The night was calling us together, time threw us in a moment
where neither of us had an answer to why you called
or why I came
to find myself in your single bed with feet that hang off the end
letting you pull my clothes off with those hands
that always know how to hold me
slipping your fingers right between the space of my ribs.
I paint words on your neck with my lips
that envelop how beautiful I know you are.
You don't think you'll come back?
I tried to walk around the world enough times
in that moment, in my mind
to tell you something you'd want to hear
but all I got were ***** soles and a steamy kiss
to cradle the shake in your spine-
Not even for me?
whiskey, whiskey, whiskey
I don't even know what will happen to me.
So I just hold you enough times until the truth settles,
until the realization has become a manifestation
of tossing and turning together in your bed
wrapping around the heart-shaped symbol of love in our heads.

A lot can happen in four years
I weaved around the promise in your brain.
You retraced the curves of my neck with your hands,
pulling me in so we wouldn't feel so lonely.
And even though we can't admit in the denial
that we were spreading around each other
in a pretty suspension of how we wish
things could eventually work out,
we understand how hard it will be to take
waiting for the other after all that time.
Not even for me?
whiskey, whiskey, whiskey
we just healed the break with a kiss
as we spent another night trying to forget we were real,
masking on our own graduating fears
A lot can happen in four years.

Love, it's a word people hate, a word people use to much, yet not enough, and a word that means so much more to the world then what is known. Love is your emotion, when you can't stop thinking, floating, and dreaming. When your life comes to a blur, and the only things that's clear, is that one person. Love is an antedote for sadness, but can also be the sickness. Love is an overwhelming  fealing of warmth. When someone says they love you, you gotta beleive them, because it's not free, it's not earned, it's gifted.

My eyes used to shine
With wonder, with kind
I'd dance round the room
Not a care in my mind
My parents my heroes
My sibling my foe
The paper made crown
Resembling my thrown
My cares, not developed
Neither my brain
The clouds never heavy
Always sun, never rain
Now time has fled
My feelings turned red
Realize the change
Heavy thoughts in my head
Escape is a dream
Sleep, a nightmare
Friends slip away
Not giving a care
I wish to go back
With every star I see
I want everyday
To let me be freed
I miss my youth
Its flown all too fast
Please please please
Take me back to the past

Sweet coffee is sipped
In the shy corner of the living room
Occasionally stopping to smile
As I reminisce on last night
Quiet messages are passed between the miles
Words for lovers' eyes only
I know not of a better way
To spend a Saturday morning
Than with this routine
We've unconsciously established

The Jedi is dead
Now we're off to bed.
She's not mad about missing our date
Just the fact my shoulder still creaks
like a rusty gate.
I pour my thoughts into her,
as if they are rain
and she is a grate.
In the middle of the street
I sink
into her embrace
The whiskey isn't as bad as the cigarette taste
or
The cigarette isn't as bad as the whiskey taste
As we press our bodies together,
I shiver and shake
She responds
Turn the light off.
*So both of us can be black in this place.