In the distance I see the early sun jutting through the horizon
Leaving the sky with a cheerful shade of purple.
The sea is still clear blue
And I hear birds chirping
And I see the waves gently breaking on the shore.

The ******* my bed is still asleep, wearing nothing
But a blue loose-fitting t shirt.
The quilt has somehow ended up on the floor
And one of the pillows is about to fall off the edge of the bed.
Her eyes open
"Morning," she says,
And her lips form a graceful curve,
And her thighs keep me thinking things.
Just things.

It's a beautiful, beautiful morning.

She passed by last night but ended up sleeping over.
*******, the sheets smell of her,
And of ***.

She's gone now, and he's hungover from her loving.
He sits up on the bed,
Downs the half-empty glass of whiskey
And grabs the packet of cigarettes on the night stand, pulls one out, lights up, takes a long pull,
And thinks about her.
Her pretty little ankles,
Her legs. Oh, her legs.
Her small waist,
Her long curly hair.
Her pretty little fingers.
When he closes his eyes he can still feel them upon his fingertips.

He pours a full glass of whiskey
And drinks half of it in one go, wincing in the process.
He thinks of last summer,
And of the times they had.
It's all memories now. Just memories.
Shelved and forgotten somewhere
As if they were an old dusty record.

He downs the other half of the glass, this time without wincing.
He thinks of the places they made love.
The shower,
The bedroom and even the patio.
The kitchen- that was the best.
They were too busy having ***, he thinks,
While their love died of neglect somewhere in the living room.

He wrote her a letter a while back
And when she read it she got angry.
Said she'd write one back but she didn't know how to express how angry she felt
So he wrote her a note saying; Why not ink it in red, baby?
She laughed,
He was glad to know that sometimes he still made her happy.

She left because she didn't want the pain anymore.
The pain of knowing she shared him with another,
So she left that night, under the 1 o'clock moon,
Carrying her broken heart,
And wearing a sad smile.

He watched her leave
And smiled ruefully,
Thinking that she gave him all her trust, and he misused it,
He abused it,
Until he broke it.
Not because he wanted to, but because he was careless.
But he knows that hardly justifies anything.

People used to say they make a good pair, they work well together.
But so does pain and drugs.
And that's a deadly combination.

Things unsaid,
Empty bed,
Pillowcase soaked in tears-
This is what she's reduced to.

His heart's not broken though, he thinks.
He's been here before,
He knows this feeling;
The wound turns to a scar, and eventually
The scar disappears.
And he knows it's just a matter of time 'fore it all goes,
This heart problem is only temporary.
But in some years it'll be his lungs- he wonders if they've gone black already.

He flips the cigarette-**** while aiming for the ashtray
And misses.
So he picks it up from the carpet and places it there.
Then he bums a new one and lights it
And falls back on his bed-
Goddamit, these sheets smell of her, he thinks,
And of ***.

We used to go on fishing trips during the holidays,
She never really liked fishing
But she was willing to tag along just for me.
She'd lie on the deck in her bikini, tanning
While I would fish.

We used to shower together every Sunday evening,
I preferred the water a little hotter than she did
But I was willing to twist the blue **** a little more just for her.
I'd stay in the shower a bit longer after she got out, heat turned up
While she would dress.

Because wherever we found compromise,
We found love.

I don't want to be rich,
I don't want to be famous,
I want to be crazy, and I want a fine *****,
You can't blame us-
Me and these voices inside my head.
I don't want to **** a skinny magazine-cover model,
I just want the girl next door to get in my bed,
I want to drink wine from the bottle
And **** on a water fountain.
I want a girl with little make up and more substance,
But then,
The girl next door's nice too, and see she lives right over that fence,
I want to go back home so I can drive my car
And race with my friends, and maybe die on one of those sharp bends,
But if not, I want to stargaze with my mom, show her my favourite star,
I want a girl to ride with me in a drop-top Benz,
And if she'd let her hair down, I'd let the top down,
I want to teach my little brother how to drive,
I want to see a fish that has drowned,
I want something nice in my life,
I want to drink a beer with a homeless person while discussing politics,
I want some spice in my life,
I want brand new Nike kicks,
I want to pay a **'
For just a hug,
I want to grow a huge fro,
I want to drink beer from a jug,
I want to spit on a green self-righteous eco-mentalist,
I want to write a poem that inspires a soul,
I want to skip school to watch House and The Mentalist,
I want to get lost in a black hole,
I want to teach my little brother how to sail,
I don't want to have *** on the beach ever again, ever, ever!
I don't want to go to jail,
I want to meet a hipster who's funny and clever,
I want to learn how to love,
I want something witty to be written on my tombstone,
I want to some day believe in the great power above,
I want to enter a no-go zone,
I want a girl who appreciates the simpler things of this world,
I want to punch Bush and Obama in the face,
I want to tongue kiss that American Apparel girl,
I want to look my mom in the face
And tell her how much I appreciate her-
How many of you have done that before?
I don't want a coat made of fur,
I want to write a hell of a lot more,
I want to have a baby, preferably a daughter,
And I'd prefer it if she were lesbian, I dont want her dating guys like me,
I want a glass of water
And two pills, or maybe three,
I want to live far from all my exes,
I want to write a book one day
About the two sexes,
I want to wake up dead someday
Satisfied with how I lived.

Sunday night, feeling kind of dreary,
Soft silence in my room, I hear trees swaying in the wind outside,
2 AM, still up.
Little bit too quiet in this bachelor pad.
Step out the front door,
Look up at the dark black sky, I see Orion's Belt,
And I think I can make out Canis Minor through a cluster of clouds,
Light up a cigarette- about to blow my own clouds.
"Put that away," a familiar voice whispers,
She steps out of the house and hugs me from behind,
"Put that away," her voice is shaky,
Think she's crying, I can feel her tremble
And I know it's not because of the weather.
I turn around
Only to meet with vacant, dilated eyes and an expectant look-
Those brown watery eyes remind me of a place- a place so quiet, so serene,
Yet a place I've never been...

Somewhere out in the world there are people fighting, people starving, people dying, people destroying the land, people even killing each other

But I hold your delicate face, then hug you full of care,
Because all that **** is happening in the real world,
And thank God that right now we're not there.