I sit here in this house of yours and the silence is like a roar
I sit at your table and across from me is your empty chair
Theres a ghost in this house of yours tonight
I keep turning around but your'e not anywhere

I walk down the hall and stand in your bedroom door
All I see is your empty bed sitting there
The window shade is pulled all the way down
I try to breathe but my god there's no air

I turn the television on just to make some noise
but of course there's a Reds game on the air
There's a ghost walking the house tonight
And I pray to God one last time that it's you walking there.

I Don't want the Practiced
                 Love Confession
                          Of A Seducer,
I want the Rough, imperfect
                  Heartfelt Statement of Truth
                          Of A Man In Love!

I ALMOST LOST YOU TODAY
ONE MOMENT YOU WERE HERE
WHERE I ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU'D BE
THEN YOU STOPPED BREATHING.

MY WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
IN JUST A HEARTBEAT OF TIME
IN PANIC I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO
I JUST CAN'T TAKE YOUR LEAVING.

I THOUGHT I WAS RESIGNED
THAT MY HEART COULD LET GO
BUT NO I'M NOT READY YET
YOU'RE PART OF MY SOUL.

Please open the Book Lord
My times almost done
I must read more of
The Father  The Son,

Please turn the pages
and let me read on
Let me savor the words
Before I am gone,

Please turn them gently
The pages are worn
I've read them so much
The corners are torn,

Just one more page Lord
So I can recall
The Beautiful words that
you gave us all.

Today I'm going to take a trip
to the far recess of my mind
Hike a trail through my memories
and hope that I can find
a spot so sweet
that my memory retreats,

I'm going to search every path
follow every trail
til my soul is lost
between Heaven and Hell
and if my feet go astray
please guide my way,

and though I may not see your face
I will find your spirit
wrap myself within your Love
and hope I can feel it,

One last journey
I must take
for my Hearts sake!

My Mind Retreats

You're are red wine stains on my white linen sheets
You are the cavaties on my once clean teeth

You are the thread that I pull on my favorite sweater
A broken record promising to make this better

I've always been someone who knew when to walk away
But you are etched in my brain begging stay stay stay

I wish you never said hello and convinced me to dance
I wish i didn't ignore my sense and give you a chance

My hands were little
Where yours where not
Tipped in cherry red satin
Flowers seemed to follow your footsteps
"Hold ya!"
My arms stretched high above your knees
For love
I grew up knowing that comfort
Every tear. Every heartbreak.
Soothed by your whispers
Calmed against the cradle of your heart
When the time comes
For you to  ease into the shadows
Know that these arms will be there
*As your's have always been before

Cynical people say life is not fair.
I think that life is too fair.
You eat an onion and the cell walls break down and you taste the flavor, delicious and ripe
and then your breath stinks like an onion.
You find yourself at a lonely 30 without a wife
and then you find a woman too complex to fall in love until she found a mature soul.
You feel the pangs of heartbreak, and you realize you were a ******* that needed to stink boldly enough to change your ways.
There is no winning in life.
You pay the toll and you drive the road that you paid the toll for.
So feel the sadness and know that you’re paying your toll.
And then rejoice in the happiness,
the road you get to travel.

Shy smiles
lite up the sky.
Let go of the past
and said good-bye
Friends pop up
and now say Hi!
It's good to see Sye.
Way up high.

Drinking summer skin,
I hear the voices in the night sky
I'm a slave to the darkness around the stars,
and I can't remember why

One, two, twenty-three percocet in my soul.
Ambulance lights breathing throughout the mist.
Pump my stomach like the sawed-off shotgun
that I was too afraid to use,
because what if I 'miss'?
What spectrum of desolation to be traced with lips;
to kiss away the desire to exist.

Mirrored reflection injection causes the resurrection of my imperfection.
I see me for who I am, who I was, and who I won't be.
It's the collection of
my eyes dilating and my knees speculating their arrival
to the blue and white tiling disguised as neo-survival.
My mind is evaporating. My body begins to convulse.
I am a ghost in a machine. I am without a pulse