i am the seedless pumpkin you left out on the front porch in the cold morning sun to rot simply because you had completely forgotten about me. all i want is for you to carve me inside and out. to make me feel at the least bit beautiful for just this instant so i won't be entirely misplaced in your memory. all i want is for to hold me in your tired arms when reasoning gives way to those interminable doubts. if only i had just that one particular chance of a lifetime i'd carve your pretty eyes out to make them hollow just like mine.

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you tell me your life story without saying a word. you tell me, because our stories are the same. no one can deny our connection.

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i wandered through the places i have come to know all these years but everything seems vaguely unfamiliar. my general fears have subsided, but his kiss still feels superfluous as though this moment has far exceeded both of our expectations. and while his hazel eyes appear as fierce as my own, they somehow remind me of the empty highway at four AM when i'm driving alone lost in my thoughts with no destination in mind.

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This is our last goodbye
I hate to feel the love between us die
But it's over
Just hear this and then I'll go
You gave me more to live for
More than you'll ever know

Well, this is our last embrace
Must I dream and always see your face?
Why can't we overcome this wall?
Baby, maybe it's just because I didn't know you at all

Kiss me, please kiss me
But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation
Oh, you know it makes me so angry 'cause I know that in time
I'll only make you cry, this is our last goodbye

Did you say, "No, this can't happen to me"
And did you rush to the phone to call?
Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind saying,
Maybe, you didn't know him at all
you didn't know him at all
oh, you didn't know?

Well, the bells out in the church tower chime
Burning clues into this heart of mine
Thinking so hard on her soft eyes, and the memories
Offer signs that it's over, it's over




beautiful, beautiful words.

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during the latenight hours, the idyllic moonlight filtered through the enclosed blinds. sweeping across the hardwood floor the brown corduroy blanket draped over his shoulders. above the patterns in the sky, the evening commute of the industrialized metropolis sustained involuntary convictions that perhaps she loved him. imaginary fringes of a greater nothing could never state the obvious that he's beautiful as beautiful can be simply defined and 'perfect' in every imperfect way. falling into the arms of sleep on the long drive back, mechanized thoughts of him faded drifting onward to a better tomorrow.

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whisper it in his ear: you are being unfaithful.

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