"waiting here until words run out"
"ryan ross".
the ball's sitting cold in the drive
and there's no one to kick it 'cause
nobody's home.
and I'm coming home from the city
with my hand on the window and my eyes on the moon
wondering why I don't feel lonely
when I'm alone.
humid summer nights
put sugar on my tongue
and salt in my wounds.
roll up the blinds, I still can't see
I sent a photo to my friend
'cause he now lives overseas
and he told me I looked like ryan ross
and I want so badly to believe
because I, too, feel that
I should be covered in eyeshadow and roses
and have my picture in the magazines
and sing somewhere to someone
who can close their eyes and just see me.
I swear that I'm a good man
and I swear that I could love
even if it takes time
even if I have to learn.
and in the park at night
the lightning bugs dance around your nose
as I wrap you in my jacket
burgundy-lined, made from plastic leather
like we're in a bad teen movie.
and I swear to you
that I must have taken theatre so that
someday I could be cast
in your high school musical.
and that makes you laugh,
and I feel fine.
I still don't know who you are or where to find you
but I know you must exist
somewhere? nowhere?
only time will tell.
let's talk about our problems
over hot peppermint tea
like how the government is failing you
or how the universe is playing me.
how your mother disapproves
and how finals aren't fair
how I'm sorry for breaking all the mirrors
in our old apartment
even though you already said you didn't care.
and how my past hurts
and my future too
like broken glass inside,
but I feel fine when I'm with you.
I know I'll die someday
but let's hope it's never
so that I can hold onto this moment
forever and ever.