As my verbal incoherence might suggest,
You make me rather nervous.
I turn slightly, to be in your line of sight,
Trying not to seem like I'm doing it on purpose.
...
I found a book on the bus.
It was a thin 'Wild West' themed novel written in Spanish.
It smelled like the cologne my father wore
When I was young.
...
I love the way she looks when her eyes are distant,
Her thoughts escaping through the window,
Scattered across the field, blossoming with depth.
Worth more than beauty (although she has both)
...
The music stops and I'm left alone in this silence.
No words left to pronounce my demise.
You always say the sweetest things when its too late.
I'm screaming so quiet, no one hears this now.
...
And I thought you were perfect,
I finally felt worth it.
And then you let me down just like the rest.
I thought that it could work,
...
I am one part inability and two parts instability.
At the midpoint between my persona's
I feel pulled in either direction.
Just a moment to reflect would be nice,
...
In all this world there are no traces of them.
No smiles, no laughter, no remnant of personality.
The dead have left us and can comfort no longer.
Their passions and pressures,
...
I'd like to paint you a picture,
But there isn't enough canvas,
To portray the way I feel.
And no colors could ever express,
...
Do birds hear our laughter?
Do they wonder what the joke was?
Could they tell how cheesy it was
By our sideways smiles and broken chuckles?
...
I know heartache comes from failed relationships and unrequitted love,
But I don't have anyone to be the object of my pining.
I want to be in love so bad it hurts.
I want there to be someone to want.
...