i'm supposed to be asleep right now.

my eyes were burning a couple hours ago when i told june i was going to sleep.

but my mind keeps me awake.

i just wrote a new song today... and i keep listening to the little snippets i have recorded to remind myself of how certain parts will go when i finally record it.


i'm sad and lonely but i want no one to be near me. i want to drink all the alcohol there is and wake up somewhere on the floor of your fond memories of me.

i want to be able to sing without my throat hurting all the time.

i will always be afraid.

to have friends because i have been such a bad one.
to be a lover because i have been such a bad one.

everyone knows where to find me, but i feel no one looks.

my mind wont shut off so i can rest tonight... or any other night.



i just want you to stay with me...


i guess there's a time for everything, and i have no problem telling people that. i don't know the time and place for my strange feelings of belonging somewhere else.

i'm sorry you feel the way you do, and i feel helpless most of the time.
i'm sorry you feel the way you do, and i feel helpless most of the time.

i'm sorry you feel the way you do, and i feel helpless all the time.

i'm writing you this note on a napkin as we sit across the table from each other in a strange restaurant.
under the table your feet shuffle around near mine, and sometimes, they touch.
i look up at you and you look down at your water glass while trying to hold back a smile.
fingers silently collect condensation from water glasses and conversation escapes us but it's not a problem.
i keep writing.
i imagine leaving and having you ask me what i was writing back there.
then i hear the sound of glass hitting table and cold on my hands.
all that i've written to you is streaking down the edge of the table and neither of us is smiling anymore.
speechless, you stand and walk out.
because you know me so well, because you know the napkin was for you.


halfway to the car you notice the stars are out and shining brighter than usual.
you turn back to where we were sitting just minutes before and see an old boarded up building where you swore you just walked out of.

there are no stars, there are no lights.
there are no stars, there are no lights.