This is my last one until I can decide to part with some others...so here we go, oh yeah its still a work in progress.

To Begin...

Marlboro Red's
Rockstar Rampage and other leaks from my pen have led me to believe that when
The status quo of my life
      -which is to say-
            How the experience of my life is |right now|

"I," said the frail Cinna, "Have lost the will to write."
but pens are swords for poets, perhaps we've lost the will to fight.

I NEED A DREAMER
    with strawberry lipgloss
    with eyes and a mind and a scent
    that makes me close my eyes.
I NEED A DREAMER
    who is fed up with the blank expression in someone's eyes
    when you ask them
"No, really, how have YOU been doing?"
    Fed up with schedules, and dinner dates being prompt and dull, and suits, and starbucks/wal-mart/coca-cola/the gap and any other distraction from this constant "mark me in your calender" make believe, moment to moment, unrealistic bullshit we call life.

I NEED A DREAMER

To love...

Fast flashing fanatical fantisies of fairy tail finely figured members of the opposite gender
I will not buy love
I am tired of MAKING love
I want to find love like a $5 bill on the sidewalk three blocks from my house after I haven't eaten in two days.

But its HARD.
Because 12 year old girls dress like they're 21
Because 40 year old women dress like they're 21
And any girl I take on a date who IS 21 has
previously asked me what she needs
to wear.

Love is that friend that changed on day for no reason.

Used to be a reason to trust someone.
Used to be a reason to be a better person.
Used to be a reason to wake up.

Love has become my father, excuses.
An excuse for paranoia.
An excuse for jealousy.
An excuse for arguments, interventions, arrogance, abuse, apologies, and infidelity.
An excuse for two poeple to stalk eachother on wireless leashes we call cell phones.

I NEED A DREAMER

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