The Cat and the Candle

I must be awake in your dreams

because I can’t sleep

even though I’m dog-tired

and I have promises to keep come morning.

I can’t keep taking your fickle ways

and the moves you make

that never lead anywhere.

It’s not that I don’t care, I do.

But you don’t want to admit the truth.

Or maybe I’m wrong,

all wrong about you.

But I can’t keep following you around

making a fool out of myself

for your sake

when it seems like I’m not worth

the chance you’d have to take,

at least not in your estimation.

Cause I know that there’s noone out there

as good as we could be.

If you could only see things like I see them.

But life goes on and I can’t keep waiting.

Be a man and spit it out

or go about your daily life

and forget how we looked in

each other’s eyes and saw

the answers to questions we’d asked

since the day we had sense enough to ask questions.

Then you’ll have to find a girl to make up for the loss of me

and I’ll be a regret that you’ll always have

along with the bitter and boring philosophy

that is wasn’t meant to be,

when the truth is we make our own fate

and I couldn’t take

one more day

of the feeling I got when you stole my breath away

while you acted like you didn’t know.

Or maybe I don’t mean anything to you.

I don’t know.

But you know,

I’m a curious cat.

I can’t let it go at that.

So next time I see you, I’ll say my peace.

I’ll gauge your response

to the things that I say at great cost,

things I’ve held inside because I was afraid.

And you’ll say what you’ll say,

and if you don’t love me, I’ll walk away

from what I’ve called friendship.

If you don’t love me, I don’t want to be your friend.

I know I’ve been obsessed with us.

And if you don’t love me like I love you,

it’s not worth the agony that I go through

seeing you everyday,

knowing how great

you are and knowing I’ll never mean to you

what you mean to me.

I’ll say goodbye.

I’ll wound my pride.

And I’ll blow out my heart

that’s already sputtering and flickering,

so I won’t ever have to feel the sting

of one-sided love ever again.

I fell in love in pieces

I fell in love in pieces,

not the lie of ‘love at first sight’.

Who can know what another soul has hidden?

It takes more than a minute to bring it to light.

No, I fell in love in pieces,

with many grains of the sands of time.

When I thought I figured out what I wanted,

my heart went and changed my mind.

I fell in love in pieces,

that struck me with their truth:

By watching the person he had to be,

not by lust in the throws of youth.

I fell in love in little ways

and not just on a whim,

my mind taught me to care less for self

and learn to care for him.

I fell in love with words he’d said,

but more that actions followed.

I thought I could not love him more

but then learned there was tomorrow.

I fell in love with small things

that no one ever sees.

Others can’t tell how important he is,

they don’t know how much he means.

I fell in love in pieces,

I didn’t know for quite a while.

One day I caught myself thinking of him

and realized it made me smile.

 I fell in love with invisible things,

things that have no measure.

The way he does the things he does

is something that I treasure.

I fell in love from the inside out,

then desire, it came too.

I didn’t notice a handsome face,

but eyes can be untrue.

Eyes can be such shallow things,

but I happened to be blind

and got to know how true love feels:

falling for someone’s mind.

At last I find I want to touch him

and have him touch my skin

and show in movements, soft and sweet,

that I love what he holds within.

I fell in love in pieces,

but fell too late in love.

I hold him dear to my heart each day

and that will have to be enough.

I fell in love in pieces,

but I can never let him know it.

I value him so highly

that I’m afraid to show it.

I fell in love in pieces,

in many little ways.

But I’d rather have a friend for life,

than a chance at a lover any day.

I fell in love in pieces,

in one part at a time.

But I’d rather have him as a constant in life

than risk it to call him only mine.

I fall apart in pieces,

each day another crack.

He’s always very kind to me,

but I know what I lack.

I lost my life so sudden,

I hardly remember how.

Only that what once mattered

doesn’t really matter now.

I fall in love in pieces

everyday and more and more.

There’s nothing I can do about it,

I don’t know what I tease my sad heart for.

I fall in love with parts of him

I didn’t see yesterday.

But he’ll never know the way I feel,

never hear the words I want to say.

I fell in love in pieces,

and I am falling still.

I wish that I could change it,

but that’s the way I feel.

I fell in love in pieces,

and I am falling still.

But he doesn’t know I love him,

never has and never will.

Turning on the lights

I drove past your door.

The lights were on; it made me smile.

I was so happy for such a small thing;

a thing that shouldn’t really matter like it does.

How can I even think to deny the feelings

that you evoke when you are in my mind?

Do you think of me?

Do you know who I am and what I really mean

when I say all of the nervous things I say?

I know who you head home to at night:

a pretty girl who I hope loves you half as much as I do.

Because you deserve all of the things you think you want.

But I wonder if when you touch this beautiful girl,

who encapsulates all the things that I am not,

do you ever, have you ever even once,

when your fingers met her skin,

wondered what it would be like if that were me?

What would it be like to lay

your pretty heart upon your sleeve,

forgetting judgments rendered

by those who don’t know what we might be

and the consequences of actions such as these?

What would it be like to clear the doubt and worry from your mind,

forget the weighty troubles that bind us up

and hold us back,

and to do one thing quite unplanned and act?

To try me out if only for your curiosity’s sake?

In a brief moment of passing joy,

or perhaps foolishness,

we were laughing so hard

and you forgot yourself

and grabbed my arm,

perhaps the way that lovers do.

I think I will spend many long hours caring for you

secretly, but not insincerely,

quietly, but with enough power

to light the whole house

that you call home

bright enough for the whole world to see.

The sweetest tangerine

I saw you with her.

God, she’s beautiful.

That is something I can never be, not really.

Sure, there might be flickers of it,

traces from time to time.

An observant person might see,

underneath all the mess

and layers that worry has added,

that I might have been pretty once.

But that was many years and many miles ago…

So far away, I doubt I can ever get back there again.

I’m not like that goddess sitting in your car,

who’s never known what it’s like to feel awkward,

who fate has never had the audacity to scar up.

That perfect angel has never known hard times

or trouble

or struggle.

I’m not bitter,

only jealous a little

that life did not deem me worthy enough

to treat kindly.

For your sake, I hope she’s half as kind as she is pretty.

You’re a good man and you deserve, at the very least, that much.

Tonight, rain is falling and I’m feeling blue.

I really didn’t need the burden of seeing her with you.

I think you must have seen that in my face.

Some things I can’t hide with a smile,

even though I’ve had years of practice.

You try to be a good man, even if you don’t know it:

You offer me pity,

which anybody else would take.

I don’t want your pity.

I’d rather keep my dignity.

I’d rather be able to look at myself in the mirror

without feeling more pathetic than I already do.

Instead of taking your pity, there are

words that I must give to you, words you have to hear:

Keep your pity for yourself.

She might be a good girl

and she’s damn sure beautiful,

but there’s no one who will love you more than I do.

There’s no one who would treat you better than I could.

If you could see the truth, you’d know there’s no one

 you’d rather grow old with.

But you don’t see that now.

You see flawless beauty.

I’m the sweetest tangerine in the world,

but you can’t get past the blemished peel.