Life Is about exploring: To stop looking Is to stop living. Answers are like An infinite treasure hunt, And we are meant To keep finding
Born reaching, Always just beyond; A shore too long, A sky too tall — A warm day, and An aftershave, And hours Just before the fall And here am I, And there am I: The sea-salt wind That blurs my eye — What does it mean The distant ones, Come down in love To help us fly?
Through all the moments I have lived, You've lived in me, through me as well; I wouldn't be -- well, anywhere, Without you in me, soul and cell, I came from out of who you were, And are, now that you've gone away, And though the night will come, I know, You gave me all I've known Of day
I wanted to believe you. I thought you walked the walk -- But sometimes, writing is in ink, And other times, in chalk -- And all you were was dust and air, A surface that was merely gloss -- A shore I thought would welcome me But on a bridge, there was no way To cross
the love the same the passions pure with lovers true but yet unsure it’s hard from here to know them there: but if they weren’t, we’d all be air
I lived here awhile. Everything was a mess then. Now is better, but.. I take all this in, and I Still think how me all this is
the staying of dismissal: he remains. but still she is unsure, and thinks that, perhaps, she granted clemency where there was no sincere remorse (maybe?) there is no process so impossible to untangle as that of strangering: how it is people we know become people we never knew. = = = she stares, now, at a piece of paper: on it, test results that say he won't be here much longer. and where it the doubt, now? who is it she has become a stranger to?
Oh, my love, the world goes by, The night nears gone, the day draws nigh, And I am wandering alone — In a speeding blur, in my seat alone. Oh, my love, there’s a certain buzz, Like a great beyond, or the big because: Where discovery’s not a fearful thing, And words are more feeling than parroting. For the world won’t stop for mistakes I’ve made: The moments of anger, or words that lied — All the tickets punched are the price I’ve paid, Like the seat to my right that’s unoccupied — Oh, my love, if you hear me now, Know I’m trying my best to be who you thought I could be in the days when the world seemed slow, And acceptance was found where it wasn’t sought, And we could control where we meant to go — Oh my love, my love, I still wish It was so
lies weighed in equal
enough like justice