No one tells you
How boys with pretty eyes
Who smell like smoke
Who taste like stars
Who talk like gold
Are the reason behind
Tear stained sheets
And silent screams
They forgot to mention
How boys with sad smiles
Who smell like rain
Who taste like pain
Who talk like hope
Are the reason behind
And sleepless nights
I'd love to see a firefly
Each night before I sleep
Illuminate my blanket sky
When countless sheep
Take turns to leap
I wish for a firefly
For the children that weep
Their tears would dry
When they see a firefly
Ever wonder whats behind you...?
That scratch, that itch, that feeling that tells you there is more?
That there is something we're missing?
The emotion that makes us push towards something we know we should be doing?
We never know what it is, but it is always there, in every human being.
Is it the "I need more."?
Is it soul?
I could never tell, and I will never know.
Just move for it, wish for it, strive for it, try for it, drive toward it.
The new dawn is breaking
into our home, into our room
through our window to take you
away, to take you away from me again,
to package you up in a suit and tie.
The light is invading our space
illuminating your scruffy morning face
that I won’t see again for a little while.
I pretend that if I ask you to stay,
to stay for me, to stay with me here,
here where the smoothly flowing cold sea
of sheets between my fingers fail to fill
the spaces the way your warm hands do,
that you’ll assure me that you won’t be gone
for too long, that we’ll be together again soon,
that everything will be fine, right before you pull
your body away from me and let go of my hand
because I do not, will not let go of my own accord.
Am I someones "one that got away"?
Do I keep them awake at night,
with regrets that thing's weren't different,
that they'd not given up the fight?
Is there someone there that thinks of me,
on those damp depressing days,
that makes them smile out the window,
chasing their blahs away?
Do they search for me on Facebook,
have they Googled me at all?
Do they see me here with nothing,
or do they think I have it all?
I guess for sure I'll never know,
if they don't or if they do.
Kinda makes you wonder though,
does someone do that for you?
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quiet nights like this you should be here with me.
filling the air with your brand of hysteria.
my hands restless in the knowledge that we’re finally together again
eyes thirsty to take in every breathtaking inch of your countenance.
you should be making my breath catch
with every heart wrenching second
lost in the eye contact that we can barely stand
burning me with every smoldering smirk you send my way
instead we’ll sit in our respective residences.
bodies instinctively facing each other across all these miles.
and when we meet again,
after our requisite hellos and how-are-yous
our polite smiles and pleasantries will belie
the shared memory of the way you felt in my arms,
laughter shaking your body in silent mirth
as you listened to my nervous heartbeat that night.
worn, well loved pages of books yearn for her touch
and the words themselves long for her tender gaze .
tea cups count the seconds until her lips are pressed to them
while firelight flares to lasciviously lick her skin at her passing.
clothes cling and caress like a lover when music moves her
light bends as the whole universe cleaves to her, and so do i.
Maybe it was weird that I didn’t move my hand
When it rested against yours
Or that I didn’t move my leg when our knees touched
Or that when we slept facing opposite directions
So we could share the same pillow
I pretended to be asleep when my lips touched your forehead
Just so we could be close a minute longer
I know I cry in my sleep
But you don’t have the same dreams I do
And you don’t have that awkward belief
That all people fit like puzzles if you press hard enough
What the hell do you think hugs are?
Or holding hands is?
I know I can’t accidentally fall into you
maybe it’s weird that I rub my socks into the carpet
With the sole purpose of shocking you
But how else do you make sparks fly?
I know that my life’s story is an open book I tell so well
My pages are shameless
And my words are honest
I know I stare at your mouth when you speak
It’s just that
Eye contact freaks me out
And I’m sorry I spaced out while you were talking
It’s just that I was staring at your lips
And I suddenly wanted to kiss you
I know I have no filter
And am practiced in the art of bad timing
And poor explanations
But we’re only human
We only want simple things
Like to be needed by other humans
Need me like a parasite
I’ve already got so much excess baggage
The weight of your monkey on my back
Might as well be an anchor
Keeping me next to you
There should be dents in your memory foam by now
There are dents in my cheeks from all the smiling you cause me
And I’m pretty sure you could light a match
From the heat in my face
So I am sorry if I can get a little creepy
It just means I like you