Dripping From My Pen

This time of night I could call you up. I'd get angry with athletic ease, break common laws in twos and threes.  If I die clutching your photograph, don't call me boring; it's just cause I like you. Take me back to the place where I could feel your heart. Is this the end or just the start of something really, really beautiful, wrapped up and disguised as something really, really ugly? Won't you come by and see me? I'm a love letter away. I'd break your name before I'd say, "I really love you." I don't care if you saw, but I watched every inch of film flash across your Roman features, and I loved it, loved it. I don't care if you think I'm eager to shut your eyes. Well, I'm sorry - everybody knows you can't break me with your gutter prose. Would you believe it, he sent me a letter? The ring, it nearly wears him down: he's got another girl. Steady your ears, read my lips. Poetry is not a luxury, it's how I'll break this home. And when I'm really ill, won't you cradle me? Man is not a noble animal, but maybe woman is. Remember, I heard you inside your room; you said, "You never really live until your back's against the wall." Oh, did you really mean it? I never break my gaze, if just to see this scar remain reflected in your eyes. I think it's time to go home. Oh, tell me your thoughts on liberty. See, there's a place where I sink to sleeping. My vote is as red as my blood. Will you join me for another round? I haven't had the chance to speak yet. God speed... I break the law once every week to feel your touch. What's a book to you in bed? Do you feel better, older? This just makes me ill. Your name is dripping from my pen; still, you're not around to curse. I'll drop the gun now; I'm still under you. Marianne, let the ghosts sleep tonight; just shut your eyes and burn the past away.