Quickie

If we spoke I would ask you how you are

If we saw each other I would laugh because your wrong

Then maybe we could lay in your driveway for awhile

Or the street

Or that one place

11:11

birdboy, write me a poem
and the one doing motorcycle drive-bys, give me a chance, because we really don't know each other anymore
the one in pain, make yourself happy, for once.
For the one's down south, try to remember me
and for everyone else. just love each other.

If you don't have anything nice to say, then use your hands

Something about the way you lose your composure just slightly

Exposing every vulnerable emotion that I can't wait to rip into;

Like the moonlight will rip into the nice girl held onto so tightly

skin, lips, nails, to touch, to taste, to feel and see

and I just want to get lost completely within you

you inside of me

every word every sigh, held inside

until you scream

three hundred fifteen

Tell me sweetheart

does the thought of her make the butterflies come to life?

do you want to dance and sing and follow white rabbits

or are they daggers that dance inside of you?

if you let them they will consume each other

the hands you need to catch you are your own

Because your eyes tell a story

your heart can't bear

and as much as you pretend

we all know you're not really here

the ground absorbed the tears that fell that day

and from grief grew a vine

it wrapped around the tree where she used to lean

next to the heart encased initials that never seemed to wear with time

and he went back occasionally

just to know that it was real

and the day the red rose grew

he remembered how to feel

Sweet symphony just one moment of coincidence

held onto for it's purity and beauty because it is rare

Because unlike people memories can stay the same

or shape themselves to fit the past we wanted

Sometimes it's easier to love an idea than a person

and sometimes I sleep when it's not raining

But it's better when it is