I need to get over you,
But life is cruel and pushes us together like boats
borne back ceaselessly into the past.
I need to get over you,
But guilt hits me like bullets.
I need to get over you,
But I already know you love New York and turf cuts and
caramel coated cherry stems.
I need to get over you,
But I look so cool
with American flags over
my eyes and, hey, we're finally seventeen.
I need to get over you,
But you changed two of those
presets just to not miss me.
And no one knows why anyone likes baseball
or falling in love
or stealing musky sweatshirts and
falling asleep.
I need to get over you,
but cops find us and we're out
past curfew
and "All we did was sit
close to each other, officer, I promise."
Just drinkn' & dreamin' the
longer I run.
I need to get over you,
But you're so warm and I'm so
cold and it just fits
together like it should.
And I can't help but laugh and make
a mess of myself.
But you change your mind so fast.
When will be the next time?
I need to get over you.
-July 26, 2013
Friday, March 21, 2014
Sun Kissed Dreams
It started hot and passionate and blinding.
Then it ran,
ran from me
faster than the alpine highway or
an Afro over your cute lisp.
And a bus leaves for 13 colonies and 14 days and
pictures are all I have.
Colorful but in
50 shades of grey.
Then never a breath from you
on the home front.
And disappointment marks my eyes.
Running all over town with eyes
like video cameras and
minds like a metal detector.
We wish we could be a fly on the wall or a plant in the earth or a new hair on your chin.
All moments,
every moment,
we know.
My fiend.
Detect this on your police detector.
Little blue Honda that looks tan in the sun.
White Camry.
Up the street then back down.
Serpentine through the neighborhoods
hoping to see a familiar body,
but not be seen ourselves.
Every day
till July 15.
Then waving goodbye to an empty house I once knew.
Where I stayed too long and talked too much about nothing.
Too many memories to remember and flash before my heart.
Then I blink and they're gone and we've passed it.
And finally I've mimicked Taylor Swift
and wrote a song about Paris.
And boys in Montreal.
Late hours. Early hours.
All hours.
Spent engulfed in our own music from our minds.
Military men. Marines that cheat and break hearts.
not enough sleep.
Lots of tire on asphalt.
Up and down and up and down and back again.
Not enough French
and a brand new white iPhone.
And the sun sets on another day
and still the one thing I want
doesn't go my way.
Then it ran,
ran from me
faster than the alpine highway or
an Afro over your cute lisp.
And a bus leaves for 13 colonies and 14 days and
pictures are all I have.
Colorful but in
50 shades of grey.
Then never a breath from you
on the home front.
And disappointment marks my eyes.
Running all over town with eyes
like video cameras and
minds like a metal detector.
We wish we could be a fly on the wall or a plant in the earth or a new hair on your chin.
All moments,
every moment,
we know.
My fiend.
Detect this on your police detector.
Little blue Honda that looks tan in the sun.
White Camry.
Up the street then back down.
Serpentine through the neighborhoods
hoping to see a familiar body,
but not be seen ourselves.
Every day
till July 15.
Then waving goodbye to an empty house I once knew.
Where I stayed too long and talked too much about nothing.
Too many memories to remember and flash before my heart.
Then I blink and they're gone and we've passed it.
And finally I've mimicked Taylor Swift
and wrote a song about Paris.
And boys in Montreal.
Late hours. Early hours.
All hours.
Spent engulfed in our own music from our minds.
Military men. Marines that cheat and break hearts.
not enough sleep.
Lots of tire on asphalt.
Up and down and up and down and back again.
Not enough French
and a brand new white iPhone.
And the sun sets on another day
and still the one thing I want
doesn't go my way.
Finding Heroes in the Middle of Nowhere
The wind whistles past my ear drums and
I am surrounded by green wind chimes,
it seems.
Crack, crack, rustle.
and a pile of fake animal bones.
Climb on them,
to the very top until the world is yours and you can see all the way back to the beginning.
Elephant Graveyard.
Four babies that bathe in the dirt and breathe in
white life.
Blue for you and you and you.
But not you.
Brown. Odd one out.
Come lie on the chests of
almost mothers and
fall into darkness.
The epitome of beauty is to relive the dust bowl?
I suppose to
the plaid men it is.
But not the depression or the
black and white photographs.
Lightning flashes inside green
canvas and
five girls scream with glee
and two girls' recognition
brings deathless happiness.
And with glee, fight back the urge to run a marathon.
To run home.
To run through dust and sage brush
and dung and
dry dry dry.
Eyes watering for lush green
in this,
the epitome of beauty.
I am surrounded by green wind chimes,
it seems.
Crack, crack, rustle.
and a pile of fake animal bones.
Climb on them,
to the very top until the world is yours and you can see all the way back to the beginning.
Elephant Graveyard.
Four babies that bathe in the dirt and breathe in
white life.
Blue for you and you and you.
But not you.
Brown. Odd one out.
Come lie on the chests of
almost mothers and
fall into darkness.
The epitome of beauty is to relive the dust bowl?
I suppose to
the plaid men it is.
But not the depression or the
black and white photographs.
Lightning flashes inside green
canvas and
five girls scream with glee
and two girls' recognition
brings deathless happiness.
And with glee, fight back the urge to run a marathon.
To run home.
To run through dust and sage brush
and dung and
dry dry dry.
Eyes watering for lush green
in this,
the epitome of beauty.
Milky Way
This brick.
This bulging pocket of blue jean.
This song player, noise maker, memory saver.
Eternal space.
Secret keeper.
It's my life, this brick.
You think you can touch it? have it? hold it?
Let my secrets run along your nerves and scurry in between your brain cells?
No.
I would rather die an ignominious death and
rot a thousand years in the sea than
watch your eyes scan my life.
Search the deep caverns of my soul.
Watch your heart scream and hear the echoes of blood curdling madness.
Your fingers would burn as
you caress the suggestive sentences.
back and forth and
it comes naturally.
Sad truths.
Depressing facts.
You'd rather pour acid on your
eyes
and have them turn to
dust
than read the conversations,
I swear.
The ability to chirp
and make it appear as if it came from my own mouth?
Ridiculous.
I do not believe in ventriloquism.
Weak images
your eyes cannot behold.
I would feel exposed.
Like "The Woman" bathed
in wool and cloth and silk.
And under memos?
The secret to how my brain works.
Why would I desire you to know the short cut
to my vulnerability?
The grey box to my wiring and the scalpel to my heart.
It's the way my soul thinks.
And you can't know that.
This brick, bulge, memory saver,
it's my secret keeper.
The fidelius charm cast over my own self.
The secret is kept within
the very soul of my secret keeper.
Giving the password up is worthy of death.
You will never hold its life on your hands.
You will never see my
soul.
You will never know my
heart.
You Are Killing Me- I'm Sorry
Isn't it exhausting,
living with so much hatred?
Not being able to let go
and forgive someone who once meant everything to you?
Doesn't it burn your skin and seer through your bones?
Eat you away?
Or have you changed too much
from the man I once new?
Now your heart has become numb.
living with so much hatred?
Not being able to let go
and forgive someone who once meant everything to you?
Doesn't it burn your skin and seer through your bones?
Eat you away?
Or have you changed too much
from the man I once new?
Now your heart has become numb.
Because of Her
I look at you and I realize, I don't know you anymore.
Gaunt eyes,
malicious lips,
gnashing teeth,
wicked heart.
The hollow shell of a memory, you are.
But that's all you are.
You can't hold my heart anymore,
your hands are too bitterly frozen.
You can't make e smile anymore,
your jokes are weak,
pathetic,
cursed,
vindictive.
You've disguised the beautiful rose in bushes of thorns,
and that rose is now a weed.
And the candle under the bushel is melted.
Gone.
I was thinking about it today,
I look at you and I realize,
I don't know you anymore.
Goodbye, stranger.
-2012
Gaunt eyes,
malicious lips,
gnashing teeth,
wicked heart.
The hollow shell of a memory, you are.
But that's all you are.
You can't hold my heart anymore,
your hands are too bitterly frozen.
You can't make e smile anymore,
your jokes are weak,
pathetic,
cursed,
vindictive.
You've disguised the beautiful rose in bushes of thorns,
and that rose is now a weed.
And the candle under the bushel is melted.
Gone.
I was thinking about it today,
I look at you and I realize,
I don't know you anymore.
Goodbye, stranger.
-2012
Stained
Your feet have no longer stepped along the shiny finish of my floors.
Your smell, no longer seeped into the fabric.
Your awkward presence no longer lingers at the door.
My house is no longer the home you choose to pick.
Your love no longer resting on my bed.
I miss the way your laugh danced around my room,
it loved to kiss my silly head,
the chamber that is now your incarnate tomb.
When you see me, is it still hard to breathe?
When I touch you, does it make you just break down?
Does the way I hug you make it hard to see?
And in the scent of me, you love, you drown?
You're a good actor, fool. Jerk. Dope.
The way you're acting now is prime.
The way you act like I'm not there, that's what you hope.
And how you really cant see me. How I cry, inside.
Take me back, Imbecile!
We can kiss through the dawn.
Passionate love, kiss me unforgivable.
But you can't even love me when I'm gone.
Your smell, no longer seeped into the fabric.
Your awkward presence no longer lingers at the door.
My house is no longer the home you choose to pick.
Your love no longer resting on my bed.
I miss the way your laugh danced around my room,
it loved to kiss my silly head,
the chamber that is now your incarnate tomb.
When you see me, is it still hard to breathe?
When I touch you, does it make you just break down?
Does the way I hug you make it hard to see?
And in the scent of me, you love, you drown?
You're a good actor, fool. Jerk. Dope.
The way you're acting now is prime.
The way you act like I'm not there, that's what you hope.
And how you really cant see me. How I cry, inside.
Take me back, Imbecile!
We can kiss through the dawn.
Passionate love, kiss me unforgivable.
But you can't even love me when I'm gone.
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