She lies in bed late at night
and listens to the rain
beat against her window
the falling rain comforts her
shes crying  because of her lose
her lose of love
the love he used to haave for her
he loved her everynight
everyday she thought of him
but he thought of someonelse
he left her for someone else

I watch your house from fade into the horizion
From the back of a pick up truck
Back to texas in the summer
I smell you on my t-shirt
I'm just a ghost
Your just a dream
The stars are bright out on the Highway
Once you climb down from the light
You start to see the dark is someonelse
Someone other than the son
My breath is steam outside a bar now
Breath you once felt on your neck
Cherry stems Jack Daniel twilight
All of these girls have eyes so bright
But not as bright as your sleeping form
A window full of pale moonlight
I hear you whisper in my drunken hour
How your never gonna leave
A kiss I think has no distance
The phone gives me your kiss on the cheek
So I go home back to a lonley motel
With dying lights and floating moths
Empty packs of ciggarettes
I watch the ashes fall and blown in the wind
I can't hear your voice
I sleep alone here every night

But you sleep soundly on his bed now
you took off
that little ring
that I worked day and night for
While you sleep away from me

I hear your yell o'r the reciever
Hollering a name I know
How he loves you and he treats you
Better than you've ever known
Does he work his fingers to the bone
Barbed Wire DUST

Sleeping doesn't come so easy
Sleeping won't do any good
Beer and STAR-FILLED Nights in texas
A lone star state of mind
Old country on the radio
That my grandad listened to

What say you,
Cuz I don't know anymore....
I sit and go crazy the way you make my mind
explore....
What say you,
Can you explain yourself....
Like why are you so bad for me but good for
someonelse....
What say you,
Everyday I grow sober without your
touch....
Am I being paranoid or do I just need you that
much...
What say you,
Cuz I can't understand....
Me without you I feel less of a
man....

you can't have it all
but you want it,
you see it with someonelse and wish it was you inplace of her
and never letting it go from your arms holding it tight.

you get shatterd and cry behind walls
but you try to run from it and not face the truth
cause you think you will shatter into small pecies which will hurt you deep inside.

so you move on
try not giving a **** but inside you were
slowly killing yourself.


- alima

Could love ever shine through this jaded soul
Through the dusted cobwebbed corners
Into that little dark corner I pushed it
To forget about it
To never remember the joy it brought me
The acceptance I still look for
That screams for it from the flat surface of canvas white
Look here
See me
Screaming
Out in that most primal way
Hoping to here it echo in someonelse

Do you know how it feels
When you walk out of my bed
To go back to her
It hurts
It hurts not knowing
If she is playing a game
Knowing you will go
Because she asked you to
Not knowing if she really needs your help
Or just want you by her side
Knowing you will go
Because she asked you to
Do you know what it does
It breaks me to pieces
Not knowing what you will do
Will you help care for the sick mother
Or hold her close tell her you are there
Is she trying to get you back
Will you let her have you
Will you tell her you belong with someonelse
Do you know where you belong
Have you made that choice yet
Is there even a choice to be made
Can you walk away from me
If she offers to take you back
Will your life become whole
If it is you and her again
Can you become hers once more
Forget who have you just left
Is this a game of me versus her
Or was I always by myself

There is something lovely in loneliness.

But to be eighteen swaying is too: wind blowing
white curtains over pink sleeves, one hand
on the back of her head, the other sweeping
a satin basket of blush and violet petals,

and all this romance when, why?

for I should be one fine and proud wallflower:
              small and dark as a wallflower;

and stand there by that wall,

****-ing-honey-****-le-bliss at this stonewall,
while the rest, the rest of the world falls in love
        with white carnations,
—and that is so nice—

but all this romance, and there is something
lovely in being plucked. In seeing someonelse
get plucked: it plucks on the inside. If only

the rest of the world would take me! and not
fall in love without blanche carnations for me,

‘cause I would like to feel like something too.