Doesn't beauty
lie within
the boundaries
between love and sin?

You know I find it funny
when I look back
yesterdays mistakes
always have a payback
you stand in  line
for your little taste of pleasure
do you really think
you've had your measure

Oh but  I can't,
can't waste my days
I got things to say
please don't walk away
now I see

You can whine and pine
feeling lonely
feeling sorry for yourself
loathing
accept the fact
that you are only human
better get your ***
back in the action

Oh but I can't
can't waste my days
I got things to say
but I can't look away
'cause  now I see

the way I say softly to myself that 'I miss you'
which I know
is just a whimper into the void
that statistically you are not likely to hear.
I miss you like the sofa misses the softness of our bodies pressed against it
like the lonely astronomer misses the visible path of a meteoroid when it fades from the blackness and a trail of nothing but the glowing memory of burning elements is left behind, a wake for all that seemed to be living but was only a projection, a fossilization in the air, untouchable in the distance, not making sense
like the tv misses our eyes giving it a glance when, occasionally, we looked away from each other
like the everyday visuals of the world miss the added vibrancy of an altered mind
I miss you like my body misses drugs that make things tolerable
I miss us together making the world tolerable without trying.
I miss us like the bats miss the night sky when they sleep crowded in the day-caves, huddled and waiting
Only unlike the night you will not come to me again

In school, there was always one girl that every boy wished for.
In school, there was always one boy that every girl hope for.
But out of fear many never approached her.

Was she miss popular?
Was she very well knowned.
That her reputation out raced her.

Was he the star of the team?
Who dated the homecoming queen?
And thought he was everything.

As adults, their light beginned to dim.
As over time folks beginned to see through them.
It became an honor for them to be seen with you.

The selfishness that they exhibited finally caught up.
That they wouldn't know how to love anyone but themselves.
And these were the one that people chased.
Now, they realize their true wants.

What we want?
Might not be, what we need?
Love is a mystery.

In school, everything is a dream.
Even when you find the love of your life.

Hurt.
It hurts that you could leave me.
Over and over, again and again.
The same old scratched record,
being wound to play in a
room long forgotten

Pain.
I imagine that when my
heart broke for the first time,
fragile and innocent and young,
it dropped pieces into my hollow body.
So that every time it skipped a beat,
every time it ached in pain,
every time it swelled to burst,
I would feel it in between my toes,
wedged behind my knee caps,
stuck against my groin,
and resting in my fingertips.

Love.
It's supposed to be the glue.
Meant to stitch us together,
different patches of the same quilt.
But when left for us to define,
love has become acid.
Burning holes through our skin,
leaving us marked, marred, and scared to trust.
It is the venom coursing through the veins
of those bitter and dead to the world.
The air that fills the lungs of people
too afflicted by life's tragedies to carry on.

Thought.
You tried to hide behind it. You tried
to build walls out of your impressive vocabulary.
You fed yourself textbooks
and decided to learn the meaning of life.
Inside you pushed away your pain
and you replaced it with logic, but instead of feeling full,
you simply found yourself a new kind of emptiness.

Alone.
So tonight we lay in separate beds,
staring up at the stars and wondering
how they could possibly stay the same,
when everything else in our worlds
has become so very different.