In a place with no water
A flower will die and turn to dust...

Object of my affection
Th rusted love's direction...

I am no sculpter
I am no painter...

In life we worry what people think
In death we worry about our deeds...

As i lay on my bed crying
The covers swallow me whole...

You took my breath away
And held it in your hand...

Feel it in my bosom
Deep interred in my chest...

As a child
I always prayed...

My own aged guilt rises past me in agony
Feeding off my own blood sweat and tears...

You get jealous
When I talk to your crush...

Your eyes bore into my skull
Trying to find a passion not there...

I love you dearly
Yet i'm so confused...