we do what we can

people ask themselves
questions like
where do we go from here?
forward, only.
for, you cannot go back in time
nor recreate the past
you only have the future in front of you
even the present is becoming the past
this very moment
the future will soon be the past and thenn all we'll have
is the past
but some people say
we shouldn't live in the past
how do we live in the future?
it is unseen, unknown and so no.



i wanted to thrive in that moment
when i spoke to you
today on the bus, on the way to town
i wanted to speak the words i thought
and let musical notes flow from my heart
and convey how i feel
how i feel for you
how i'm still in love with you
i wanted to be all i could be
in that moment
i wanted to conquer all
and come out shining and smiling
and be happy like the past
but you can't recreate the past
so leave it there
and you can't live in the future
so let it be.
you misunderstood what i was trying to say
that wasn't what i meant at all.

illuminated no's.

After a while of trying to form the right words,
and figure out what i really think,
and how to get my point across clearly,
i've finally got it



death has become unreal to me.

30 days isn't long enough

I can't see
and my fingers smell of sin
but not to me.
How was it for you?
Did you think of me, at any point,
did you remember me?
When you pressed your lips against her's
did you remember mine?
When your hands fell across her back
did you remember the curve of mine?
I guess not,
chelsea seems to think not
but chelsea doesn't know much
so answer me.

Were her eyes blue or red?
Were they brown like mine?
Sitting on the couch,
ignoring the scenes that flashed across the tv,
trying not to get caught,
going,
it's the same
it's all the same.
It seems like so long ago
when i sat on your floor
listening to hopeful songs
and played with your hair.
Does she take the time or care
to lace her fingers in and out of your hair
Do her fingers smell like mine?
You never liked it,
the smell of my sins.


Eight to one
shows how deep the love was.
Eight seasons of treatorous seas
on a little sail boat
against the crashing waves
silently passing the days
with hopes of the sun.
And finally reaching the shore,
after a season of clear skies
you decide to go.
"I'm tired of this sail boat"
and all the storms sailed through
didn't matter at the bottom of the sea.

she wept with her face in her hands and her heart in the ground

love is a strange thing
i saw a sign today that said
"love never ends"
this is simply not true
jimmy loved robyn, and robyn thought she did
but she doesn't anymore,
if she ever did,
so neither does he
their love ended

he loved me
he doesn't anymore
i still love you, though


is it possible to talk with someone
and have the best conversation you've ever spoken
and not feel a thing for them?
i don't think so
you can tell yourself you want nothing more
but you are fooling yourself
and your life
and making it a mockery

how can the sun shine
and the sky be blue
and the birds sing
and i still cry for you

the heart doesn't stop missing
and it never forgets
the good, the bad
it never forgets
though, the good times do shine through.
this is how it is supposed to be
this is how we know
that life is worth it


she sat on the bench
on the royal red suade
and cried
for him, for her, for time
for one more night
her hands gripped the tissue at her heart
her sobs rang in every corner of the room
the love of her life
lay still tonight
and as she sat on the royal red bench
i looked straight on
and had to tell myself
that none of this was real.
her cries, this room
became numb to me
and i did not share in her tears
for fear of breaking down
jimmy broke down
he broke down and cried

they had to hold her up next to him
and she kissed his hands,
crossed delicately on his chest
while she cried
and cried
come back to me
this can't be the end
this short road can't end like this

friday night she lay in bed
with him next to her
goodnight, my dear
i love you.
i love you, too.
and in the night
he quietly slipped out
without waking her
without worrying her
he quietly slipped out
and left so soon
and saturday morning
she awoke
and cried

i like giants

how big is a giant's heart?
it must be bigger, to fit his size
for if it were the size of a mere human's
he would die
giants aren't so bad
no fe-fy-fo-fum i've heard
instead soft breaths breathed in,
no, he didn't say a word

no, giants aren't so bad
with their heads in the clouds

i'd like to spend a day laying in the clouds
weaving my fingers in and out
but what would i look at?
what would i make shapes about?
i could walk along side the giants
and count the hairs of his beard
seperating each, one by one
until the last one appeared

twelve thousand six hundred eigthy two
twelve thousand six hundred eighty three