If I promise to fall asleep fast tonight
And wake up early tomorrow,
Will you promise not to be in my dreams?

If you ask me, blissfulness is completely overrated.
It's a feeling too close to excitement and being giddy,
Except it lasts way longer.
It can be a terrifying feeling.
You feel like you're flying.
And your feet don't feel like they're hitting the ground
When you walk down the street.
You're high.
And you're not in control.
And you can't imagine what life could be like
Without this wonderful sensation coursing through your veins.
And once the feeling is gone,
Your feet feel like cinderblocks on the pavement.
And all you want to do is sleep.
And colors seem less vibrant.
Jokes aren't as funny.
Hugs aren't as warm.
...No...I'd rather feel content.
I find it much more appealing to be
Not completely unhappy,
But not too happy either.
And to feel like myself.
And to be in control.

With those acid wash jeans
With that full sleeve of twirling black ink
With the drapes of long hair
I thought that we could leave the xplosion-club
After the confection of colognes
After the South African red wine
After the pounding music all night
Something **** about
A statue that can move
It's eyes
Something **** about
A man that thinks
Openly

We took the subway back to my apartment
You picked up a pebble and tossed it
I was quieter now
Would I let him inside? I have to at this point it seems
A charming prince
is a charming prince

I open the door.
Nothing bad happens, as I expect
I am a little paranoid I don't know why
(The club flashes back)
The door closes without its usual creek,
And we're inside.
Me and the charmer; I wonder, was he once a frog?
I have a funny feeling that I think came from the wine
Am I trashed or
Does he have horns?
Slimy toadskin, red eyes, 1000 inches of claws
Suddenly
Are upon me, Oh my God!
I tell it to leave mE ALONE,
It doesn't listen to me.

Every time I try to slip out of it's grip
I slide into a claw
Gushing this stuff from the movies,
It covered the bed and then the floor,
It probably leaked out from under the apartment door.

My cellphone rings in my pants pocket
I can't reach it because by then this grendel thing had broken me
Into two legs, a torso, two arms
And a decapitated head
While it eats my right lung, my left hand tries to desperately crawl away
He pokes it with a great fork; no escaping crums
The awful amphibian finishes and leaves forever.
He's never coming back
A winner-and-loser kind of ***, I guess.

i want to be the sidewalk under her soles
the gum in her hair
that dark slick of mascara.

i want to breathe the world from her lungs
settle into her bones and
feel it through her fingers.

there is a perfect mauve i picture on her nails.

so yeah i guess i have a type.
dark hair glasses a threat or two-
enough mystery to keep me busy.
and yeah i should have warned you about my
wandering eye.
temperamental.


but it’s not like you’re real when you’re gone

Excuse me while I scream this out
It builds in the back of my throat
Unnamed it tears me apart
I will myself to spit it out
Welling up and roiling with emotion
This is an odd mix of fear and passion and love
I've given all of it so freely before
But it's fear that stops me now
It builds in the back of my throat
Please excuse me as I scream this out.