I really don't want
to say it. I don't
really want to feel
it. How many times
does it have to be
said? Some part of you
knows no one ever
gets more than a small
temporary visa
to these particular
dreaming stars.
Everything is ordinary
until
it's not. You don't need
to be told to watch
your step. We're all restless
for something more,
but we don't exactly
want to be the
only one standing
up to describe its
indescribable
beauty for others.
They might take it the
wrong way again. You
do seem like a lovely
tender mess underneath
all that sexy
bravado, I'll
give you that. Love only
reappears when
you don't accept it's
gone. What am I to
do with such lonesome
knowledge? Is this what
you got in this poem
for? The road sign
always says, carry
on, but the moon, the
moon, seems to say, enough
is enough for
tonight. Lay in each
other's arms instead.
Rise when we rise. Everyone's
leaving. Where
are they going to?
I always miss you,
but I feel fine. I
feel fine, but it doesn't
make me feel fine.