I tore out the intimate stanzas that my friends had written in my note book
I used it to clean their mess
Jealousy at it's bleakest
Excuses at their best

Angst and nerves filled my head
Most of the time i'm too scared to read what they had written
Most of the time i'm too scared to read what they had said

My notebook is hardly mine any more
Merely scrap pages for my friends thoughts
Their voices are loud and powerful on paper
But I hardly spare the time to listen


**Imagery created by all means
But never correctly interpreted

I asked what's a home?
And she said
"a place where we know how to turn on the water."
And I thought maybe it wasn't my home.
So I'll go get some midnight coffee down the street.
And pretend there's no one back there to yell at me
Maybe then I can keep these words in my head long enough to write them down
Or maybe I'll get drunk craning my neck to see the stars
And realizing it's the lights of on-coming cars.
The streetlights in this town are too dim.
I think that's why there's no hope here anymore.

Never been sure who to be
Never been sure who to believe
Who am I supposed to trust?
Who am I supposed to keep my distance from?
Why isn’t there a handbook
Indicating who is a demon and who is an angel?
You can see the halos when you’re up there,
But don’t they know that down here we can’t see a thing?
Demons and angels all look the same to me
And if the only way to see the difference is up there,
I’ll have to take my chances
I’ll probably pick the wrong choice,
Just like flipping heads or tails,
And only then I get to see the difference
The problem is that
By that point,
I’ll be seeing it from down there
Because knowing me
I’ll pick heads over tails
Leading me to walk over to the sweeter looking one
Who smiles and waves in such a reassuring way
Who coaxes me into evil intentions
Yet I don’t mind
Because, oh lord, what a beautiful voice
So rich and full and inviting…
And lying
Lying Lying Lying
Every single word is a lie
I say, “Let’s go down that path
With all the trees and butterflies”
Then you say, “No, that road scares me,
Let’s take the darker one”
So I go along
Since I have learned that you’re always right
The path gets darker with every step I take
And soon it’s not a road but an inky black cloud
I can’t see
“Where are you!?”
Fear grows inside me
Then I see you:
Blood red eyes, leather wings, daggers for teeth
You laughed then, an evil, bone-chilling cackle I’ll never forget
As you approached, folding your sickening wings around me,
I knew where I was going
Finally now I can tell the difference:
The halos from the claws
Except this isn’t exactly where I wanted to be
I’m not up there
Although, through the process,
I have learned that you don’t always get what you want
Now, all I get to do is watch as more victims get roped in
Lured by the fake smiles and seducing faces
And I can’t do a single thing about it

I woke up with a headache again today.
This time because I knew
you didn't want to stay.
It's strange how words repeat themselves.
And no matter how much I thought
it couldn't all be for nothing,
I guess it was.
But that's okay.
I'm used to this place.
At least I know I won't
ever let anyone else in again.
It's just easier than losing
something you never had.
How foolish of me to think
I could ever be what you wanted.
You'll always deserve oceans;
I'm sorry that I am only rain.
And no matter how much I give,
I will never be enough.
You say you don't feel the same
as you used to, and that's okay.
At least you love me enough
to tell me you don't.

you reminded me of a trip i took to the countryside, one summer. the back yard of our cottage stretched out onto a field, filled with grass the colour of sand, that reached my waist. there was a tree in the middle of it all. a thick trunk, with a dusting of leaves. i always thought how perfect it would be to sit under that tree, late at night, or early in the morning (whichever way you look at it), with a stomach too full, thoughts too drunk, eyes empty of tears,

or your arms around me.

i think it was that sky, though; a robin's egg blue teasing the tips of the long grass. sometimes i looked at you and felt that sky growing inside of me, knotted with my soul in the most delicate way possible. sometimes, i still do.

What if every person
gets the same amount of heartbeats
And every minute filled with stress
anger or
even excitement
will take seconds of your life?

All I know is I would fall
in love with you anyway.