try and have a good time, with the rest aside (you're still one of my kind)

It's been a decade since I seen you dance

or held your hand on a bus going downtown;

but I know you don't ever think of that moment.

That's okay, I think of it often enough for both of us.

Ya, that day was and is the greatest of my romance.

My saga still in motion; yet each girl I kiss

doesn't have nearly the same amount of passion

as you have living in you and everything

you attempt to do- you are like perfection.

Barely able to recall our first encounter

on your couch: so shy then & so much laughing.

Then it went much too fast- I am guessing

it waas like a movie script that was poorly written;

because it wasn't meant to be produced or seen.

We tried anyway- we sailed through galaxies and oceans

on my queen size bed in the basement of my parents.

But then it evolved into a masterpiece of tragic events,

went from every day conversations and expressing frustrations

to a manifesto of our fading imaginations.

Thought it was fate, thought, in you, I'd found

this sort of person who knew just how demented

my fallacy and belief system was and you didn't

mind, you didn't judge my suicidal destruction.

It became too much, I imagine cause now I beg for forgiveness

from you for for the deeds I'm not even sure were non-fiction.

Maybe they weren't even all my own bewildered doing.

Let's just try to have a good time as we drown

our sorrows in bottles of whiskey and cheap cocaine-

we'll try to fight the truth, deny our chemical romance.

But when we are near each other I know it's not imagined,

no, it's true- I feel the spark when our eyes fall on one another.

Still have your doodles hung up on my wall; still hoping that air balloon

will come to life and take us slowly across the universe