june 29th, 08

i have so many emeralds stuck in my throat.
you've got so many rock falling out of your mouth.
heavy machinery wheels grind words whenever anybody talks
we always fall victim to the weight of these rocks.
i am no good at any of this.
i thought you were too good for any of this.
but you are no good at any of this.

i would crawl to the sun if it meant i would come out brighter
you would sit on the moon if the heat was too much
the grooves that you've slept in will never compare to your skin's texture
so don't squint your eyes, you're words pour out of more than light fixtures.
nobody can be good at this.
we will never be good at this
one of us needs to be good at this.

i could sleep between blue lines if you would ever join me
you would hide behind red ones if you it meant you weren't revealed.
blank looks and blank sheets, all agree they've got nothing
i hope that one day you'll get your tongue back for somethhing.
i'm trying so hard to be good at this.