. . . Does she
                   Kiss you goodbye before
    You leave for work in the morning?

Do you miss her on the week nights
        That she doesn't spend in
   your (our) bed?

             Do you think she picks out
   Places she wants to go
        On the map printed on the
             Inside of the shower curtain
That I only bought
                            Because you liked it

       I find something to miss about you
Every
                  Single
             Day
But it doesn't hurt like it used to

I'm not asking
         Because I'm afraid that you love her

I'm afraid that maybe, you don't . . .

by letting myself to dream
I know, I have to do something

my love for you was altruism and you was ready to do anything just to heal yourself.

Upon my steel face, will it rain
upon my gleaming eyes, it will be made
the envy of a soul,
trapped in perfect face
to no great final resting place

My legs, drilled into the ground
my eyes, upturned to sky unwound
released of tears and raining down
to broken glass
and grass
their souls unbound

To stare deep into a darkened me,
my admirers creep along my metal sheen
as my material decompose,
to save my thoughts from endless woe

"So long!", will I be endless seen
abrupt, *****, incongruously
commanding these vistal centuries
of concrete and perjury

poking up grey thumbs among the hills
while the putrid stench under burrows
My fingers, ever curled, do maestrate
The doleful victims of that loving fate

And when you walk upon my land,
and see my metal hanging hands
Know my voice, hear my dreams
to never make the enemy of me.

whoever said
that too much
of a good thing
isnt
a good thing,

clearly hasnt
spent enough
time
without one

i could really
go for too much
of a
good thing
right about now.

Go run like lost souls do:
up any path that looks safer than the last,
stumbling towards the next clearing, any hint of sanctuary.
Always to find that the forest isn’t ending,
it's cresting the edge of a mountain,
and on the other side are more forests,
and rivers,
and meadows to cross.

But for a brief moment, on this peak,
when every path is downhill,
each way is easier than before.
So go run like lost souls do:
In any direction you choose.