Muse Of My Heart

the radio had been playing all night long, you closed the door on me and went back inside. I leaned my head back and just pretended, cause you were busy smiling. With my head against the car seat, I pretended you opened my door, You whispered in my ear a song you would rather like to hear and you lifted me away into a rough version of a waltz. We slow danced on the corner while the half moon was high and orion was straightening his belt. You said this is what you knew I would look like in the moonlight. I said you were beautiful  and I would dance all night just with you in my eyes. Then you held me close and hummed the notes, to a song I couldn't quite place. She ran a red light I woke with a fright realizing it was all a dream. "Next time" I said, Alone in my head, "Next time you will dance with me."

You see its too much to ask for. Seven times seven is forgiveness and a dusty bookshelf cannot hold my heart half as well as you can. I can't be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling. I am learning to heal others and myself. If my advice could only reach beyond truth telling and on to true actions. We all give ourselves very good advice, but even before we give it we know we would never have followed it in the first place. It is funny to see people weak over failed plans, makes me chuckley. You are a fool if you believe what you want to happen to be exactly possible. Instead of giving up all hope, however, simply think of what small difference in your plan could be made to give you options and therefore possibility. Yes, I did use the word chuckley.

I will go again to that place you know of so well, that dark place. I cannot take you from it, but i suffer it because of you. Dare me and I drink well of it. Pretend you do it for my own good and I will eat of it. Darkness does not consume me, as it does you. I consume darkness for my fate lies along the ley of yours. Darkness subtle and a thickening mucous which spreads and spread into every place left wrenched of it's inhabitants. The holes in the late comforting places of my mind, are now filled with sleeping blackness where hope once napped for the infinite universe to awaken her yet. But the leaves fall still, never frozen again, never a moment will pass as was passed. Hope will rest eternally for mine is lost.

I want them so much it hurts... I want so much I hate myself for being to ignorant for being so selfish for being so childish for caring. I propose I sellout... be a teacher, make enough money to be a good housewife, push out some spawn and be adorable... Start a drinking habit and become addicted to so form of arts and crafts... What I want, what I have always wanted out of life cannot be possible unless I man up and grow a pair... Of wings, of course.