the point vanishing

Again. Alone. Waiting, Knocking doors,
cold coffee, broken traffic lights, and airplanes.

I was reading your lyrics, watching your eyes closed while you sing somebody else’s song,
and the images you draw—you are affected.

Sunsets falling in the mountain, and the trains that cross makes you cry.
Even lone trees and a group of skyscrapers that reached out to heaven
but never kiss the sky compelled you to be sad.

Another sigh, wondering over a basket of apples, and rains rolling down on your window,
and the empty theater seats help you die.

Spilled ink in the paper, autumn leaves, old TV shows:
materials for hopeless knight like you

Can I ask you a question?

Would you tell me?

Why it has to be lonely and still, I mean for silly and hopeless romantic like you,
and still like it?

You see the beauty within but you never removed the painful shell.

Are all silly hopeless romantics sadist like you.

When will it be?

Instead of again, why not enough?

Instead of alone, together?

And instead of waiting, begin to live?

*The Point Vanishing was written September 20, 2006PM. It was a poem inspired by some of the songs and shows I love. Basically thigns that affects. It is also about love.