Your voice reeks of cigarette smoke
and decaf coffee, or so I assume
from the other side of miles of wires.
Hundreds upon thousands of others have
crossed this path before, yet it feels
like I am the pioneer of it all
I couldn't be so wrong in being so right
we could stay or we could go but it's
more than us against the world.
We're fighting the oceans now--
battling the waves with our fists,
trying to stop the sea from churning,
trying to stop the earth from turning
and trying to make our hearts beat
so for one second we can feel alive.

Extinguish the fire in my eyes like you do
the match after the cigarette is lit.
I don’t blame you for wanting more
you deserve the sky, and I can only
give you a syringe-sized ocean of tears.
If we were any deader to each other,
we would be together, sipping caffeinated lattes
instead of speaking in sighs on opposite
sides of a relentless ocean known as distance.

03/02/2004

Posted on 03/02/2004
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