To Thine Ownself be True

It was brief two concerts and a movie, 

Mom I wish I could follow your eggs advice when it comes to love, 

I put it all in one basket every time and its never worked out. 

How many more pages will you fill with my meaningless and empty thoughts 

That hold it all together like old Liza’s bucket. 

I cry out for answer’s but then I remember those answers had names. 

Is a sociopath built or born, what if you decide that you don’t want to be what you’ve become. 

I should have given you that stupid Peanuts Christmas gift that traveled under my car seat for the better part of a year, it would have been a better home than a gas station waste basket. 

Life isn’t a game, no homebrew rules to fall back on no do overs no rerolls; 

I miss that unwavering trust, 

I miss not being afraid all the time, 

I miss knowing that no matter what shit life would deal it was two against one, 

I miss slow mornings and idle conversation, 

I miss long discussions and being proven wrong, 

I miss slow dancing to no music,

I miss long hot nights dripped across each other,

I miss passionate kisses that come out of nowhere,

Fed to many stories in my youth have me looking for something that can’t be found and only finds you 

If its not true there is no point. 

If you weren’t the one then you weren’t the one, 

Another one way out of my league.