Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk

moody as smoke billows out of black canisters

everything but and dreaming about lost people who i can't touch anymore

so much right and so little wrong, in a strange way all i want is to be alone

this is such a strange feeling for me

consumed up in one other person not wanting to deal with the outside

sounds and goosebumps

dreaming we can just be dreams, i mean friends

thinking about how cute and nice your best friend is

hugs

and how much trouble that got me into last time

my fingertips are dry and dyed

thinking about how good it is just to lay in bed with you

listening to your thoughts

is this it, all over again

why does easter move around?

and what are you doing today?

prickly cold leg hair

waiting, . . .

strawberries and marinating meat

why can i just get along with my friends

and not be a hater

can't wait for crap apple blossoms a new

why is there no doubt in my mind

you'll be there

the titanic was unsinkable

good thing i'm a little over weight

can't wait to get burned into submission

taking over the nature inside me

it's a strange retaliation

are we still best friends?

or have we replaced each other?

secret gardens, easter baskets, and wondering

wondering if i'll ever fall in love with you

and what happens if i can't?

will i burn all your mix tapes?

throw away all your files?

do i really have the need to bury people so much?

maybe i should just take my own advice and know

someday all my feelings for you will just faded away

leaving me a little more on empty than

the hole i started with

just remember...

that death is not the end. not the end. not the end.

this is our last goodbye.

you call to tell me we can never be friends any more,

after i've offered you my littlest shred of sympathy

jett told me i was inviting trouble and now i for sure believe him

when you tell me you don't want to be the boy who never stops being in love with me,

i have to smile because your admitting defeat before you've even finished your sentence

wishing i had the phone charging from jett

phones gonna die

slip on pants to go talk to you in the wind

i tell you i enjoyed the ticket i had for your ride

the world a mess

wild at heart and weird on top

can't make the tears come to my eyes

just like that night way back when with

the tears of black streaming down my face

and the razors blade in my mouth

not as cute as me and not as smart as me

and we all know it

i wondering if that's what she meant by you don't want anything else

lets go break bottles in the alley way

where i'm gonna jump you

and cut your face off kid

clean off

just wanna tell you one last time

i love you

.old.

long time lover of my past

floating like a ghost in my old hotel room

many teared night past in a smelly little hole

treading you, as a thought, over

while listen to old blues

on the old radio

thinking about putting a lil tom waits in the mix

wishing for an outlet no one i care about sees

twitter on twitter

useless floating past thoughts caught up in dream catchers of time

cure on repeat everything time your in my bed

sleeping a little closer to heaven

for fear of love sifting in thro the cracks like a well trained old ghost

skip on that lost highway of love baby

have you seen him?

shape shifters in the night

shoes laces wrapped around old dying flowers

purple with green eyes of jealousy

has it really come to this

missing those sweet demon'd eyes

paulie draws, shriek types, and jett's peterpan

were a happy family

me, mom, and dad

play that harmonica one more time for me baby

play that sweet old blues to bed

let me wake another day

sweeterness on my lips of lost old sorrows

i just can't seem to let go of