a congregation for the lonely
is all this place can ever be.
dead hearts and broken people
spending too much on rent,
like an eclipsing sky line
could fill the holes we've dug.

well, everyone lives there.
of course they do
where else would we go?
we come with nothing
so that anything we have
is nailed to the floor.

i don't have enough ram
to process all the ****
i hear sometimes.

i could yell
every secret ive ever heard
from the top
of the cn tower.
and the cars
would keep driving,
id still be afraid of heights,
and she probably
wouldn't care for me
anymore than she already
didn't.

well what's the fun in that then

all i want to do
is buy wine
and chocolate chip muffins
but i wheel my cart past the aisles
and i see a familiar face.
waiting in line.

of course
its not really her
the real one
is a thousand miles away
the real one is anywhere but here

when i really love something
it is an all consuming journey.
i cant see very far past
the things i love
when they look me in the eye.

when i really love something
its all i can do.
my heart lives on one track
in one gear, in one speed.
like a bullet straight ahead.
ripping through my free time
through the things i should be saving.

when i really love something
i promise to never leave that thing,
because i cant promise i can be
without that thing.
im scared to see what this
may look like with out that thing.

but when i really love something
it always finds its own way to **** me
and then i take a year to recover
before i lay back down
on the sidewalk like usual.

when i really love something
it will eventually tell me
that i am a liar
and that i broke a promise i made
before the weather got bad.

and when i really love something
i find myself explaining
that i never lied to it
just that the truth keeps changing.

when i really love something
i let it go
to see if it will come back
and when it doesn't
i am surprised.

sometimes i cant tell if this is good for me.
poetry, the broken mans art form.
i give up on all people
at least once a month
and i think im doing it again.

//

i dont like heights,
but i always thought
maybe id like being an astronaut
i could use a break.
read a book,
enjoy the view,
walk through nothing.
maybe then
id have a reason
to feel so alone
instead of drowning
in a sea of people
i cant feel when they touch me.

my head
is too big
to fit the helmet
thats supposed to protect me.  

i found out today that i am not immortal.

i still dont know
how to deal with
learning something
you thought you already knew.

i found out today that i am not immortal.

if i could
wear a mask
every day
i know that i would.

i found out today that i am not immortal.

if i could
do it my way
every time
i know that i would.

because i am always right
until someone points out
that im not.

my head is a beach where hope comes to flourish,
where the water is warm.
until someone reminds me
that they hate the beach
and i cant help but agree.

i met Sharon buying christmas trees
for a four bedroom house
full of college boys
that could barely afford to eat.

she said my name's Sharon
and im here to help you
make sure you don't split
these trees in half.

i barely caught a word
that Sharon said
got too busy
dancing in her eyes.

she smiled a bit and said
lets move along,
im sure we've got some trees left
that youll want to take home

i swear to god
it was the most beautiful thing,
she cut the whole tree down
before i could blink

she laughed and turned to me
and said that should do
i said theres no way in hell
i leave here without your name

she said my name's Sharon
and i already told you that.
but we can talk about that later
if you want.