We Come From The Mentality, That Rarely

But We Are More Than Genteel Or Civilized/ We Are An Idea In The Process Of Being Realized.

We're All Shipwrecked On This Idea That Everything Has To Be Explained.

My Heart Is A Protest That I Let Rally Against My Ribs.

What I Said Was I’ll Miss You What I Meant To Say Was I Love You What I Wanted To Say Was That I Meant What I Said And It’s Funny How All Those Things I Could Have Said Flooded My Head After We Said Goodbye And I Should Have Told You I’d Be Willing To Hold You Until My Flesh Crumbles Into Bone Because I’m Willing To Die Alone But God Knows I Don’t Want To Live That Way.

I Sit Before Flowers Hoping They Will Train Me In The Art Of Opening Up I Stand On Mountain Tops Believing That Avalanches Will Teach Me To Let Go I Know Nothing But I Am Here To Learn.