the love of

We were pendulums for a while, only I was ready to fall through the floor.
Your ears swallowed cemetery soil into their pouting mouths as usual and
I don't know what the top of my lungs has to do with screaming but
They were wearing steel wool sweaters in August.
I was lost in a cornfield, except there was no sun and even the wind hurt the surface of my skin.
Familiarity flushed out with all the color in the sky when the air chilled considerably.

Feelings are the only things I can hold onto.
I want to be in love, I want you to be in love, I don't even care if we love each other.
Because the only comforting words I've heard in months tell me
"It's alright, alright to see your ghost."

They say you can't see heaven from down here,
and i hate to be a poet
But I see a black coat thrown over the shoulders of the cold world
and the intensity of its love poked holes in the fabric
Though your arms are the only thing holding me together
I've never wrapped up in them
Even so, I look at those stars, knowing;
It's alright to see a ghost.