they press their lips against you and you love the lies they say. and i tried so hard to reach you, but you're falling anyway. and you know I see right through you, cause the world gets in your way. what's the point in all this screaming? you're not listening anyway.

how stupid could i be? a simpleton could see that you're no good for me, but you're the only one i see. love has made me a fool. set me on fire and watched as i floundered unable to speak except to cry out and wait for your answer. and you come around in your time speaking of fabulous places.

i stick loneliness, your lips, and the two coins of your eyes into my pockets. well the train skates into port henry late sunday. sometimes when i'm riding high, feeling fine you know there�s something troubling my mind. so i reach into my pocket for some small change. i reach into my pocket for some small change. i want bones like iron...blood like mercury so i can tell you when i'm rising, when i�m sinking in. i�m sinking in.

if you see me coming home turn me away. everybody tries to go back somewhere someday...wont you give me the distance? 52 weeks later, you're still the same. i'm standing im my basement, making my arrangements, waiting for the telephone to ring...

the first person in your life to ever really matter is saying the last thing that you want to hear and you are listening hard through the splintering shards of your life as it shatters. and you're standing firm. and you're staying close. and you're seeing clear. how sick of me must you be by now?

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a-thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn's rain. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.

i love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. i love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so i love you because i know no other way than this; where i does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as i fall asleep.

I love you for what you are, but I love you yet more for what you are going to be. I love you not so much for your realities as for your ideals. I pray for your desires that they may be great, rather than for your satisfactions, which may be so hazardously little. You are going forward toward something great. I am on the way with you, and therefore I love you.

I think sometimes you love someone so much, you have to be numb to it... because if you actually felt how much you loved them, it would kill you.

I wanted a perfect ending... Now, I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment, and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.

if you can handle the candle, then you can handle the wax. you're just going to get sacked...it�s as simple as that.