a cat is a creature of elegant feature
when leaping through leaves or wrapped round a heater
there's one that i've seen who lurks by the theater
she's shy with green eyes and i wish just to meet her

In order to find true love,
you don't have to taste
all the coffees in the world,
just wait for that coffee of yours
to cool down
and then just drink it;
you never know,
it tastes better than others.

you made me laugh,
you told me stories,
you held the door open,
you made me happy,
and I fell in love

Back when
monsters would have disappeared
when the blanket was over my head


back when
time was just a concept
where "light" was not all that confident -
I had self-discipline
I knew what I wanted from this life
I had a plan
I had an ambition
A vanilla ice cream was all I wanted
A delicious collapse of sugar and ice
melting on my tongue
surfing down with the brightest of daydreams
hollow senses, all thousand and one of them
grasping each lick until I was left with only a smile
satisfaction -
Long before adaptation
Then
My mother bought me a watch
I sat.. and watched

"you're confused,
isn't that why you're here?"
he speaks in quiet tongues,
always so gentle,
but sincerity lacking
i don't want to talk about the
things that brought us here
the things that have broken us
down... in the quiet,
and in the dark,
it was always the same


i'm here because
i want to be held*

it's as simple as that
i have no other explanation
for the way things are,
or should be,
or could have been

I have this note.
A little note
on yellow paper,
with a young man's signature.
I keep this note.

I have this note.
A blank note.
Yes, there are words.
But they are empty.
Nothing from the heart expressed.
Over and over, I read this note.

I have this note.
The only note.
A single lasting artifact
of a romance gone by.
Yet still, the note survives.

I have this note.
A damaged note.
Ripped in two;
like me from you.
I keep the pieces of this note.

I have this note.
A months-old note.
Scribbled, signed & torn; mine.
A cold reminder of harder times.
But I cannot come to trash this note.

I breathe.
In out.
An exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide
between my lungs and an unforgiving world.
how many breaths does it take to get to the end of a life?
filth slowly filling up our lungs.
slowly killing us.
we can stop it though.
we can end it early.
we have the power.
but we will never know the answer to the on going question;
*how many breaths does it take to get to the end of a life?