she wants to paint my hands, so i let her, she messes me up bad. steals my songs, spills the paint, the wine. breaks glass. won't stay the night. hurt me. you know, i can't write without you. without the presence and absence of you. wrapped up, all in one. almost like christmas, but under more trees. much more trees than these small plastic fakes. ( Read more... )

if you'll be my star, i'll be your sky ( Read more... )

forget the moon tonight,and pull me close with little silver hands. i sat at an old desk in a hotel room as i wrote you that letter. the feeling reminded me of school and sometimes i crave the weight of a backpack stinging my shoulders. i thought of how blurry that night was, all against those songs. all against those red walls. in the dark, you ( Read more... )

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and i have seen this city, i have walked these streets somehow in this sunlight ive only now experienced sight ive grown these legs to tread across these people, moving through streetlights i have spoken of love, i have made these hand signals, i have said these words before and now each morning they hit like daggers, it rained so hard tonight ( Read more... )

As soon as someone defines me, I do as June does; I seek escape from the confinements of definition.

there's a certain hour where you won't get me back. all the talk through weak lamplight, i had you on your back, you have me at your feet. talk about evaporation between elevators, the isolated seconds, all of them. i said i chose to push them down or give them to you, intervals like chain-link fences. i'm only counting the split seconds our hands ( Read more... )

I CAN'T.