Drivers seat. **** stereo. Karl has the aux Windows down.
You’re used to it
This scene is yours.

It’s all snap backs and ear gauges
All ripped jeans and graphic T’s
All Reggie **** and stolen liquor.

No one here wants to be innocent.
Rebel against anything.
Cover your scars.
I got punched on Brewery Ave.
Sammie said I did good.

I was not well.
I was not on the straight and narrow.
I was bent.
I was getting high in Whetstone.
I was drinking moonshine.
I was throwing up
I was being thrown against the wall
I was burning holes in Jeremiah’s carpet
I was watching him take the blame.
       We never spoke about it.

Always the Long Hall
Always the thousand pretty and ugly words
               That all just amount to desperation.

On moment you’re young and beautiful and desired and filled with genuine, unironic, honest to God love.

The next you are standing alone,
               bathed in the pale fluorescent light
      
And you are tired.

Pouring through an hourglass.
                                   I know where this leads.
A new scene where I paint the picture of confidence.
Standing tall.
                        Head high.
                                            Eyes ahead.
A strong voice with carefully chosen words.
It’s important to me that you notice this.
There are things you think you’ll never say.
There are things I could do but only think.
So you smile at me and I smile back.
And that’s enough.

Time’s up.

Open the flood gates!
                 You can’t be happy here anymore.

“You can’t get there from here.” Said a man in a white shirt
“You can’t get there from here.” Said a girl I don’t want to destroy.
Cut that scene. There’s no beauty in it.
Cut to a room that’s empty but doesn’t have to be.
A dream of you and me. Then only you and me.
These, our bodies, honey sweet.
You look at my arms and wish you could live in them.
I look into your eyes and am afraid.
Because I want to melt into linen with you.
Shatter and tarnish porcelain.
Okay fine, I might destroy you.
But I’ll bleed for this too,
And I’ll show you my scars
So you can press your lips against them.
Tell me that all this
                           and the fire too
                                                will be worth it.
Tell me if it comes crashing down we’ll never get over it.

Inside your head you hear crickets.
You wake up and see the stars,
And feel leather
                                   and fear.
That’s all for now
Later is the part we rip each other apart
Figuratively,
                            of course.

The cluttered old shelves, always dusty
Hung through Merlot red wallpaper
With little tears in it, adorned
By faint outlines of broken hearts.
Little pretty things.
All with handwritten price tags,
All asking you to bleed.
Dead roses and heart shaped boxes.
Emerald necklaces, diamond rings.
Slender books filled with sappy poetry.
Snow-globes capturing old memories.
Your favorite sweater she never gave back.
(You never asked)
The photographs you threw away.
(You never forgot)
Glass shards from broken liquor bottles.
Everything in the Emporium of Misplaced Lovers
Yours, for blood from your broken heart.

Every morning, the dark room.
Every morning, the wandering hands.
            
           The white linen, the black curtains.
The Golden light waiting behind them
      Silence in the air
Silence in every breath you breathe
          Every one of them is for me, I know.
            
            The white walls, the black ink.
The green leaves of the spider plant
      Sitting on top of our dresser
That you swore you’d **** within a week
          But will never wither or wilt.

          The soft touch, the strong arms.
The wandering hands, restless
      Until the find you, they always do.
So they may pull me closer to you
          As the golden light fills our bedroom.

Moonlight pours over your skin;
                 Your eyes still closed.
In this moment
I can almost imagine your lips moving
              Up
                    And down
Telling me you don’t know what love is
And asking me if I do
                                       As if i have a clue
                     Suddenly
A new lover
                      Her deep brown eyes
                      Her hands
                      Her touch
                      Her lips
             Not yours.
I’m trying to be fearless because I know,
                             I know she wants me,
needs me, craves me.
It makes me feel handsome.
With her nails in my back I apologize
         That I don’t know if I love her or not
She pulls my face to hers and whispers
Love isn’t always roses and heart shaped boxes
Sometimes it’s a guilty conscience and scratch marks in your back.
          
                        No.
My mind goes back to you
              Your hazel eyes
              Your hands
              Your touch
              Your lips
Telling me you don’t know what love is
       And me
Wishing I said we can figure it out.