It will run its course
clean, free of remorse
outlasting and unforgiving
but I will be the last one living.

Surreal like memories
concealed in melodies
playing and playing
running circles in my head.

Enamored for centuries
and armored for plenty pleas
fighting and fighting
wishing, flipping coins for death.

curdling in the scarcely defined corners of the world
praying for change
falling into martyrdom for something you'd never believe in

I'll wither away
curl into a cane
from a sword that once was so gallantly played

leaking tye-dye
which colors are my true colors?

some people bleed false colors
some people bleed all colors.
and some people just bleed.

paint me a picture
paint me a pick, sure.
paint me a sad, sad lullaby
where tears fall like feathers
instead of lightning strikes

I'll lie here on the floor in wait
crying til you hear my call
But I'll whisper wisdom while I whimper.

I pray you'll stay away
I pray I'll trip into martyrdom
I pray you'll paint something
and you'll pray for me to pray.

I won't pray at all.
or you'll pray you never prayed for me.

Take a puff
it's just once
finish me
lit quickly

Another
I'll smother
Open lips
closed eyelids
Burning fast
this won't last

Put me out
before you're burnt
put me out
before I turn

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I was sitting in my stale kitchen in a t-shirt that was two sizes too small,
and you were covered in horse manure in a stable in the cold - or so I imagine.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I gave you my best pick up line,
and you read it.
A twitch in my leg told me you had come up with a verdict.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I searched for the right words
because I had plenty of time.
I was just one of the nerds,
and well, you were a "dime".

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

Three dimensions told the whole story.
I couldn't look away from your beauty.
You looked at me with the same red fervor.
And I knew you could see right through me.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

We were two out of thousands,
the city was ours.
But my lips were going nowhere.
And neither were yours.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I sent the right letters,
and you sent the right digits.
Now I would write letters,
if only you would lend pigeons.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

Ten years have passed
I feel the same
just more worn
more tired

In retrospect
has it been worthwhile?

Ten years
that may never have been.
They call it selfish.
Because the nods are one-to everyone-I-know.

I just want
to want.

Ten years
of lessons I wish I could peel back.
so many songs
I'll never unlearn.

Call me the bard
of self-loathing.

Ten years
of crawling on the gravel.
Can you help me pick
the glass from my elbows?

I'll focus on that small,
sinister lantern for ten more.

Whatever happened to the moments
we lived for
the moments we lived from
electrifying lives
currents of passion
high voltage that knew no resistance

what do I have to do?
to feel the surge
to feel the spark
to feel alive again?

Is it in the tomes?
Is it in the songs?
Do the muses hold it in the walls?
Is it inside of me?

Searching for the switch
to send me back to passion
To make me feel charged again
to make me feel in charge again