more everything

Because this fire of longing that burns me is the only thing that keeps me from the empty cold inside.

Dishonest Indecision

So I'm back to where I started,
whispering through fingered wordscapes,
Hungry for my own way,
To make the truth feel real again.
because I was lost following all the rules I never believed in.

And it's not just that I Love how you Love me,
like all imperfect lovers I have no choice.
I long for that fire to consume me,
The words that end the need for war,
without having to decide which side I'm on.

What might has being is.

And there I was,
Not making sense.

and here I am.

and time might have moved,

but I didn't see it.

(Just hands moving across a face)
Not me nor you
as much as I had imagined
I don't even know what happiness is.

Things might have changed,

but I can't remember.

I do remember the wind,

and voices that carried me,

the tunes that stick in my head,

long after the musics gone,

I still want to dance.

I just want to dance.

until this body falls off me,

until it no longer matters,

how to use grammar,

or if I believe

in anything

or everything,

or just how much Love really feels

in me.

Life goes on with and without me.

Even If I could make it all stop,
Theres no guarantee I could get it started again.

And even if you get everything you think you want
there's little chance it's what you really need.
That it might make you as happy, as you imagine you might be,
but not sure if you deserve.

If I was made of stone, I wouldn't need to breathe
like we all do
And you wouldn't be sad
that my heart doesn't beat
and the deep still cold would sooth my fervoured Soul.

more than impossible

Just because it's impossible doesn't mean you shouldn't try.
Just because it's impossible doesn't mean it isn't true.

honestly

It's about sex,

about how it's not about sex.

And how it's all about sex,

                             And wanting

                                       and feeling

more than sex

more than the body

and at the least a conversation

It's not about the letter O

                      or G 

not about getting somewhere

If it's just an itch, it's the kind that scratching only makes worse.

It's about time,

                         taking it, 

            making it, 

And letting Love be this life, right here.

It's about the soul,

                 finding it. 

           baring it, 

being willing to share it,

And if you offer me anything less I can not stomach it.

the only thing left that matters

When all the tears have been shed,
all the hats hung up,
all the games have been won,
all the pieces lost,
all the trains have gone,
and all the flowers have gone to seed,
all the jokes have been got,
and all the words said,
maybe then
maybe you'll know
That I always loved you
More than is possible,
and I always will
no matter what.