every so often i keep my senses checked / i'm such a wreck if i lose direction / so what if... / i should consider self-help / late nights to interrogate myself / burning paths between my bedroom and the bar / a finer place to start...

picking out my poisons from the wall / there's a war inside my head / i'd say i'm getting used to it

some nights well spent / i'm never sold on self-help / i'm too fresh to interrogate myself / when i have the strength to crawl back into bed

i'm writing lists in notebooks / i'm organizing every word / but less forgetful in dividing lines / you called me right on time

picking out my poisons from the wall / there's a war inside my head / i'd say i'm getting used to it / i'm getting over it / i'm getting back in bed

we all seem overwhelmed / keeping time will never tell / i really shouldn't stay / i should be proper for a change

every so often i need my senses checked / when i have the strength to crawl into your bed / i'll change my plans instead

this is a night worth saving / i will pour my doubts onto the floor / and wear away the pavement / between my back porch and your door

do you think i should stay? / i need to be proper for a change / well, we'll be at home

give me something to look forward to

fuck you, 2:33 am

what i'd give to curl up and reside under your floorboards

so you can step on my spine and crack my back

in all the right (and wrong) places

i'll notice the gaps between your footsteps

and i'll hold my breath waiting for each footfall

and i'll do anything i can to fill those gaps

.-- .... . .-. . .- .-. . -.-- --- ..- ..--..

What if I called your name,

in the thick of the forest,

when no ones around?

(you know the rest).

Sometimes I sense that you can

hear my deepest thoughts,

I haven't decided if I like that or not.

Sometimes I spell 'where are you?' in morse

even though I know the city smog is

much too thick for you to see it,

with the dim flashlight I hide under my bed.

I wish I could split the smoke with a finger,

split it in half and run through,

back home.

It's hard to call a place home now,

but you,

you're as sturdy as a house to me

(all the home I need).

Maybe we can part the sky together

if we try hard enough,

you can fingerpaint mountains

and trees and all the landscapes

I'm missing in the smog for me,

give me a place to hug like I'm home

again.

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

trying to love without boundaries, without knots and harnesses and bags of sand weighing me down, i'll take all the faults and flaws and scratches and blood, anything for the sake of knowing every inch of you, every fucking speck of you, not because i just want to, but because i need to, i need to get you, to memorize and explore you, and i want you to do the same, i need you to, i don't want our eyes to glaze over with untroubled satisfaction, i can't settle, let's never settle, let's always be moving and learning and figuring each other out, let's run and master how to deal with our cuts and bruises when we get there, because doesn't it feel good to just fucking run sometimes?

this is my last leg, been awake for days.

in a minute i'll die of starvation.

i'll come back a ghost if i can haunt you and float around your room.

what do i do when you get close?

if i kissed your neck, would you slit my throat?

and i'm not imagining how you give me the shivers,

standing up to your waist in your river,

you're the sweetest boat-builder i think i've ever seen.

dream in japanese, dream in japanese,

some language i don't even know how to speak.

you're still pretty and i'm still choked up,

it's probably just the same.

i waste all my time just thinking of you.

but mostly i'm tired of waiting