count with me,
it's one and you're holding my ace
with that perfect
you'resofucked look
painted across your lips-
not for the first
time tonight.
we've been at this for hours,
stale cigarette smoke
and unspoken words
littering the space between empty bottles,
but that never matters, does it sweetheart?


<sub>(lord,
don't let him call me sweetheart.
but you do anyway, and
suddenly we're fifteen again and
you're kissing me for the
twothreefourth time,
wishing i was anyone but me.
it was always
me
that you avoid like the plague,
and i could never understood why.)

(i don't want
to feel the slip of your voice
down my neck,
your hands firmly on my hips,
your breath hot against my collar;
but it's the recollection that's
the killer, all too sweet and familiar.)

(because i just might hate you,
'nd i just might love you 'cause right now
my will is putty
in your worn hands after
you touch me. why does it have
to always end up this way, with your hands
wrapped around my neck-
why can't i just plain love hate you
like i want to should?)</sub>

"Are you sure you don't have my damned king?"
"Go fish."
"Damnit."
you never held kings,
but i could never keep from asking as
you go out on my ass over and
over, just because you could
and i was holding half the deck.

but then we're ten all over again
and you're the girl in
the beat up jeans with a base ball bat
telling me to stop being a little
girl and throw the blasted ball
before the bell rang.

if everything happens
for a reason, then why are you always
with someone when we
meet?

<sub>(my dear dead date-rape songbirds,
kiss your demons goodbye, ive
found someonething much worse.
heit makes me smile, i know it's
written across my face when i shatter
into a million peices
all over
again.)

(Helen, was that her name? that girl you were
oh-so-intrigued by when we fell apart for
the fifth first time again. but she had
always been into drummers, not
guitarists like you-- not that it
stopped you from trying to get
under her skin like you did with me.)</sub>

"Here, have a six of hearts."
"What if that's not the heart I want?"
"It's the one you're getting."
why did you always smile when
you shot me down?

<sub>(dark blue was always my favorite color, but
it was something about the way you looked at me
that made me realize i had a soft spot for
green eyed boys.)

(it was funny how green eyed boys
always seemed to remind me of a
green eyed guitarist who could
never keep his hands or his heart
to himself.)</sub>

"How does an ace of spades sound?"
"Almost as good as a vodka and coke, but unlike the alcohol I really can't use that ace right now."
but you had that same sparkle in your eyes
that only meant we were fourteen again, when
you ended things with Eric what'shisface
the day after Heather and I became an item. but
that hadn't stopped you from
showing up to that 4th of July pig roast
in that dress that made my heart skip
seveneightnine beats. The best part
had to be watching you punch him in the face
after he tried to touch you, even if
Heather decided he was better than I was.
The way the ambulance's lights mixed
with the fireworks glow across your face
later on that night made losing my flannel worth
kissing you beside the pool.

"We should blow something up."
"Not at three a.m. we aren't; here, take a ten of diamonds instead."
"How about the ace, king, queen of clubs?"
"Come here so I can ki-ck you."

_{(i always seem to have a soft spot for guiatarists, too,
even though i still can't play to save my life- but that's
what i've got drums for.)}

"Breakfast instead of a kick?"
"At three a.m.?"

_{(Why did he have to have that look
on his face tht made us fall in the same circles again?)}

"Eh, why not?"
"I'll get the keys."
"I'll meet you outside with the scoreboard, you're still beating me by eleven-sixty."
"Better bring a deck, too. Lesse if you can get closer to me."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"only if you make it one.";