I have a friend who always wants to help me
Who can’t seem to grasp I set sail to sea on a ship called Solo
that’s sinking because it’s got so many holes,
I’m a hypocrite.

I hate my ears but then I think about being thankful for them
Like Dumbo is thankful for them, like Van Gogh is thankful for one of them
My grandfather could be Dumbo with his ears but I wish he could fly with them
Since he can’t walk on land but is so pure he could walk on water

Love is the first feeling we feel
And those that say they don’t believe in it are hypocrites too
Sometimes I wonder why the sky is blue
Because to be that blue you’ve got to be holding your breath so long for something, and that something is the sunset which makes you turn bright red
With the heated sweat red drip of the sun making love to the horizon
And then the stars are the tears the moon cries because of having to stay up so tall on a one night stand

Repeat

Shooting stars are not stars; they are the half-hearts racing
Racing to find their other half, and darling, they run fast
Like fluent Spaniards with too many “R”s in their sentence, with their tongues rolling fast

Old couples have sex more often than teenage couples do,
I know that sounds disgusting, but I think it’s beautiful
Because though my father thinks two men making out is disgusting its still love
Isn’t that what that is? Love.

This isn’t a love poem,
It can be myself, hey there me, how’s it going today
Shitty.
That sucks.
Tell me about it.
I don’t talk to my self regularly
I wish I talked less

Words tattooing the tip of my tongue, though they may be