terror infected salt wound, under, champagne heart, you are, ending things, & it's only the start, my beloved, you have, chose to choose, let the mind reminisce, and I'll fade away, and you'll fade away, and he'll fade away, and she'll fade away, and we all fade. Darling i need too, carve my skin with your, dictionary, because it's so hard to read your face. Lover, intoxi- cate me, I'm so, worn out, Wont you sing me to sleep? teenage politics and the weather, the pointless songs, about forever, the lonesome hearts and the ever dying arts, moth-eaten sex, & the lust for material objects, I think I'm starting to get bored, I have no love, I have no lord. A place for everything and everything in its place, but the youth in my city has lost its face, and it dissipates, and it fades away, and it fades away. and...!

butterflies and pebble-stones, in the morning when the grass moans, I am so puzzled by me. talking shit behind a cigarette, I am hard and you are wet, but all is grist to the mill another day, lack of dollar, I am societies anti scholar, I told you I was ill. blood is thicker than bullshit, so why can't any of us admit, we're all boring each other. & tell them all on your final sunset, how you are not the moons pet, or how I have had a wonderful time, manic depression and making words rhyme, east or west the home is the best, but I know a fowl, that never had a nest. He that goes a-borrowing, in due time lives a-sorrowing, i love you more & what is with this big endeavor, with two hands that know forever, many hands make light work only fools and horses work, my head is suddenly berserk, over death and taxes and gaining age but I am still delicately free, a feelings amputee, until liquid bliss.

I really do miss you, sweetest heart, I was never good with math, but I ace division, so let this be my swan song, desertion & exodus, you are the statuesque leaf on the Oak. the one that survived every season, until my demise came over you, & I am sorry. I want to glide, like a mist on a river, to be blown to death, by a gust of wind I fool myself like a personal jester, I would never be fit for kingship, I'm sick of running out of heart and alcohol, just to analyze myself in a billion state of minds, I the writer, yours truly, with the dead and the morbid words, how we break, the plots of our night, I still break, with a crater in my heart.

& I tried to love a few girls, & now I love a girl far away, & I tried to love a few boys, at the end of the day, I'm just not that gay. now I'm learning to love myself, and people are getting in the way, but I'm ignoring all the pessimism, of the image I'm forced to portray. absence makes the heart grow smaller, bad news travels fast, people are becoming really mean, the world should be, recast. Because the stage is large, the people small, everyone's mouths fumble for space, & I'm so god damned, out of place. your eyes look so bored, since what they used to be, little bursts of fucking sunset, thanks to my chivalry. you've been high most of the year, and it's starting to show, yet hope springs eternal, but your face has lost its glow. and in the fall of last years Christmas, I felt real alone, I'd whinge and write and binge and sleep, I was an apathetic drone. but in the first week of College, I wrote how mighty oaks from acorns grow, and my teacher praised me highly, it was that moment I let go, of all the things troubling me, I knew myself to be sure, love is not eternal, don't let it sound so obscure. people leave, the seasons change, it's all so cliche, whom the Gods love die so young, so only for rest do I pray. I've read a thousand words in a thousand books, I've learn sadness makes the best hooks, your self diagnosis syndrome is a curse, your obsession with being unhealthy, it's getting perverse, so I'll dismiss your final kiss, and wait for my heart to drink its fill of bliss, and no longer dwell on this, what can't be cured must be endured. But frankly my dear you are a fucking snake, and I relish in my beauty, i am the angels cake.

we're on the bus, the two of us, holding hands, nothing to discuss, you are not the view, of the ocean blue, you are the blacks in my eyelids, patiently dancing through. now we'll never be one, we must endure as two. and I'm okay with that my love, as long as you love me too, there's something about you and I, that I could get used too. so here I lay, right at your feet, come to me under the sheet, lay with me, you wont disagree, sweet pea. All my life I have waited, All my life I have created, what's it led up too? nothing, but I have you, happy birthday my love, I hope we can pull through. you can see what I can see, I know you feel what I can feel, we're so surreal, we're perfectly ideal. It feels so good to write for you, to write for love, to write for truth, even though I may be, drinking from the fountain of youth. I need to stay pure inside, I want to fly, I want to glide, so kiss my eyes, and let's tell no lies? I wish I didn't have to leave your side, the few times I tried, I almost died, I get tired and dried, without my bride.

there's nothing quiet like being this young, quitting cigarettes because I'm sick at twenty one, smoking dope with my best friend and lover, because life is life and it makes me shudder, I escape so well and live so fast, it's a wonder I'm not hoisted up in a ships mast, sailing further 'n further into a darker blue, where I could maybe possibly perhaps find you, that metaphorical being that intertwines with my soul, as the blue grows darker the ships men fall, see how my mind wanders with inane words, mumble and jumble of sadness, cats and birds, it's words to a rhythm, and a pen to a page, a voice to an audience, a feeling to embrace. There's the unease, the breeze, it's seize, weeping winds, consuming trees, look to any God to please, but for you, this words, I deem, Have you ever lived a day in the life of yourself? have you lived a day when you didn't damage your health? is everything around you falling apart? did some dickhead break your heart? I've got chocolate Jesus, and Buddha too, an edible heart for me and you. I've sang about love, drugs and heartbreak too, the times of shadow, and the way we unglued, but what does happiness these days even mean, if the grass doesn't grow anymore green, than the days before I grew up to be like this, I remember when me and my friends could just take the piss, out of one another, now your minds a gutter, trading days for pay, there's no other way, but I still try, to get by, music and life still get me high