The Sun at 8 PM

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Reaching, outpouring
Wanting to forget about never knowing
Falling or sleeping
Or dreaming of being awake
I can’t find someone to give back
All this regret I continue to take
Wake me up
Before I go under
I want to remember the way
You looked up at me in wonder
There’s silence in the trees
And a lack of air at night
And no matter what medication i take
Nothing I stick inside me feels right
All the depressive
Without a manic to be found
I reach for your hand
But i’m not safe
when you’re around
And across my eyes
There’s a forest burning
They all cry for help
Because the earth keeps on turning
I don’t think they get the monopoly
Humans have on hate
Because even with loss
They just want to get away
So the sun melts
And you walk out the door
And at long last I remember
That you weren’t there anymore
There’s been years since your touch
And the trees are now ash
And when I get a little better
I’m just close to another crash
But in the cinders and dust
From that old wood
Life will rise again as it should
Yet only in a dream
Will you come to me
And my life is always fleeting
Just as it should be

Circular Anxiety

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Sitting idly
No silence in the air
So I’m left in my head
Thoughts in rotation
Every word I’ve said
Autonomously moving
Like the changing of the clock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Why did I?
Why did I not?
If there’s reason for the Viewmaster in my head
Constantly changing between the scenes
Of fixated regret
I can’t make it out or try to get it to change to a different reel
There’s no choice or chance or change to American monuments or creatures of the rainforest
Just monumental fuck ups
And the list of people I’ve made dislike me
I wish I could stop the flash
The fleeting thoughts
But they come and go and tick away
Tick tock
Click of the reel
Constantly in motion and when it stops it begins again
Circular anxiety

Glaring Omission

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(red curtain)

don’t forget
we all fall
and there’s nothing left
at the final call
to leave behind
or store away
because we can apologize
some other day
i won’t please you
you can’t speak to me
we don’t understand
the language of being
softer words
than the touch of your tongue
and my mouth writes monologues
that your lips haven’t sung
yet despite the lack
of oxygen
between you and me
i still find far too many allusions

to our own soliloquy

Under the Skin

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(no more)

Under my skin
You fell so deep
Lips like honey
Against my skin your kisses seep
Dripping like rain
On tear soaked diary pages
Leave it all to me
Running off as the storm rages
Left to find solace in empty memories
Recalling what you’ve remember a thousand times before
It’s time you realized that what you picture
Isn’t there anymore
You make your way under my skin
And I yearn for those sugar soaked eyes
And warm embraces made of gin
I want to remember
What I want you to think of me
But what’s in my head – the dreams that I see
There’s nothing there that is based in reality
Nothing that we can reach to, from under the skin
Anything that we can make flesh
Anything we can begin

Seasonal Ineffective

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(sun sickness)

 

Caught up in a tangle of ninety-three individual days
Circadian cycles passing in some heatstroke haze
Catch up just to fall behind
And see the water fall beneath
In our heads – the only images lies
In some dusty, dried creek
Ripples of forgetful
You take what you can get
See what you still remember
Crowded pathways of those
Just waiting for December
And we sit and wait because
The global warming feels so nice today
The ice caps can melt
But we all take swimming lessons anyway
And why look over the rim of the bomb shelter
To see what the observers have to say
Oh well
We all have to die some day

 

Ninety-three days pass
And I still don’t know when we begun
I’m just waiting for the world the end
Because I’m getting just a little sick of the sun

Here We Go Again

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Here we go again
No pencil to paper
But flesh to screen
Letting out streams of unbroken consciousness
In no new way then what was done before
But the writing gives no way to myself
My scrawl of ink scratching across some old notepad, no –
Instead across tepid electronic keyboard
And cold glass screen
Is there any of me
In what I do not touch?
Is there any emotion
In the places I do not reach?
Here we go again
Attempting to find
To feel
But it feels so empty and cold
And gives away none of emphasis I’d want to show
And so it’s all for show
Here we go again
Attempting to find
Trying to begin.

Tomorrow to Come

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(summer soliloquy)

Who could tell
Who could wonder why
When summer passes through me
Like tears on hazy honey eyes
When it floats away, like those dreams on the big open sea
And life is simply another
Lonely menagerie
Things will never be the same
As they were before
Quiet songs on the record player
Spinning old songs of anti-war
Kissing in the driveway
Before you head back home
Silent cravings felt
Sitting in our separate rooms
But one of these days
Everything will finally stop moving slow
And finally it will feel like
Time has a flow
And tomorrow will come
‘At long last’ we’ll cry
And I’ll sleep next you
As the world goes by.

Shattered Glass

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The wind howls louder still
Reaching for the empty heart
Of someone who never got their fill
Of a life that has yet to start
All of those hopeful flames
Dancing in such a cold, dark room
Ever so reluctant to respond to the change
We forget that we aren’t the same
Despite our matching tombs

So open your lungs
And breathe in
All these shards of shattered glass
Left in the future
From the pieces of our broken past
Breath out
All these shards of shattered glass
When we all stand alone
Who will be left to last?

Soak in the left over memories
And face the mirror
See the man you built
Out of the anger of all that you couldn’t achieve
Did you hear that it all comes crashing down?
Like the missed notes
Of your favorite love song
It’s going to come back around –
Despite the coughing and blood in your breath
We know the lost will eventually be found

So open your lungs
And breath in that shattered glass
No falling water can cleanse
What moves so fast
Breath out all that shattered glass
The pain will lose its edge
Though the scars always last
And while you lie sleeping
And I’m lost in my head
I’ll gather up all that shattered glass
Left behind on all those roads I’ve yet to tread

Bloom

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From beyond the nights
And into my sleeping head
Working for that sign of light
To finally pull me from my bed
A dance of moving parts and pieces
Gears twisting in their place
Fingers running over the creases
Left behind in the sheets
For behind my eyes – I no longer see your face
There’s nothing left in sleep for me
Not a sound or song or words of validation
Just the cries of the demands for my condemnation
There’s no quiet left in my room for me
Just echos of sounds and trails of hazy smoke
But before I wake to face the fumes
Of something lesser than what I want
I’m just waiting for these thorns in my head
To twist and bloom

A ballet of roses
And sweeter scents than what was left behind
A trickle of color
A downpour of things we’ll never find
I can hear everything so loudly
A symphony of re-repeating
Another collection of words
Just ski-skipping
I can feel it in my chest
The petals wilting ever so soon
So that the weeds and thickets
Can continue to bloom

There’s nothing  but twisting in the dark
There’s nothing but absence in the cold
A lack of color to your lungs
And an empire of dead bones to behold
The world turns beneath
As I sleep in the silence of it all
And the quiet, rushing thoughts bare their yellow teeth
There’s so much of it all
In the aching of the gloom
I can only wait for morning
And hope there is more waiting to break through and bloom

Rubble (Left in October)

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I once knew you
But don’t remind me
Like the rubble of the car wreck
That still sits close to me
And the oxygenated air
That still makes me dizzy
I don’t want to think about what doesn’t make me forget
An orange atmosphere with nothing left
And voices in the background to remind me of my debt
My mind is just full of wind
And I’m trying to fixate on the howl
If only I could go back to that empty ditch
And that shattered glass
Fall onto the dirt
Just close my eyes and focus on the smell of the gas
I once knew you
But don’t remind me
I just want to remember the burning
Of that dripping gasoline on dry fall leaves
The way I stammered your name
Speaking of the only thing that I believed
Winter cannot come sooner
For I am in love with the gray skies
And empty cold air
It makes me feel like I belong here
For three months at a time
When I felt like I wasn’t even here
For nearly two years
I once knew you
But don’t remind me
Just give me those thoughts of the icy metal bed
And my ripped clothing
The bandages on my head
I am in love with the bruises
That fell across my chest
And I adored the pains
That made it hard on my breath
Show me the aches and my old stiff limbs
Remind me of the dreams I never had
Tell me that I am something different now
Than I was before
Remind me that the winter world would give way to the warmest love I ever knew
But please don’t remind me
That I once knew you