The things that never will (or was it the Will that never thinks? Honestly it's been so long that I forgot)

I stargaze in my own room,
with thought of holding you.

The melody of songs I don't know,
make me wonder what there is to behold.
With a gentle laugh,
I stand starstruck by your words.

Like a child I stand below it all,
seeing colour that aren't letting you go,
as the stars paint a portrait of your smile,
I am caught stargazing in my own room.

And the sky turns back to white,
as the ceiling lights up from the cars passing by,
but the thought of you stands still.
The thought of the things that never will.

I wouldn't pull a Hannibal on you, I just want to understand what you're going through... Wait.... Wasn't he a psychiatrist?

I just wanna wake up,
wearing your skin,
see from your humble perspective,
the pain gone undetected.

And I just gotta hold on,
to your words,
feel the sorrow and sadness,
masked by redness,
of your cheeks,
when you go on your own,
listening to the same songs,
just to be reminded of your old friends.

I just wanna wake up,
right beside you,
see how peaceful you are,
now that the pain has gone,
away.

FB Group where we all pretend we are in the same venue

Within a prison of pictures and songs,
humming birds listening to my shameful tones.

Screaming my lungs out,
to the lyrics that I read wrong,
acting as if this venue is still my own.

With a lonely ghost inside my home,
I am stuck between flesh and bone,
with nothing but memories going through my veins,
poor choices with consequences that remain.

The line-up is nonexistent,
and the scrapbook setlist insufficient,
now I know why you called yourself a musician.

Within a prison of rights and wrongs,
your heart is what I want to call my home.