Back to Her

"Hit me with a squirt gun."
"I think that'd hurt a bit."
"You know what I mean."

His eyebrow was cocked as he leaned forward over the table. He glanced out the window for a second and then back at her. He didn't think he was attractive, but he acted like it. Back at her.

"Yeah, I'm not quite sure what you mean."
"Look Brian, I just... I don't know. I want to feel real, like I'm someone worth the effort. I'm trying to get over this stupid break-up, I guess." A pause. "I swear, I'm done with boys."
Violet's voice wavered over the words. Some of the syllables came out louder than she intended. Brian always winced slightly at these moments. His sublime coolness always disappeared when coming face to face to these kinds of situations, more specifically, Violet.
"You say that every time, and God knows I hope you don't listen to yourself. I mean, otherwise this tender slice of meat will continue to develop frostbite in the freezer of raw emotion."
He gestured to himself.
"You see what I did there?"
Even he did not see what he did until after he said it. "Raw emotion? Slice of meat? This is gold here."
Violent managed to push out a half-laugh. She smiled and her red cheeks became taut. Brian started to reach for her hand on the table but stopped himself. He was never sure of his place. Well, their place. They both looked down at themselves and then at each other.
"Look, I'm really sick of picking myself up all the time. I'm tired of pushing myself into places that I'm going to have to pull myself out of later."
"With all that pushing and pulling, it's no wonder you're tired."
Brian was never good at advice, often throwing together clichés in a weird way that almost made them seem meaningful. That is, until he thought about them afterwards. Brian glanced out the window again.
Violet's eyes were reflecting too much again, and her nose remained a rose color that matched her cheeks. He held eye contact with her for a while, something he rarely did. He wasn't sure why this was. Brian didn't know if he was afraid of something, afraid of her looking past his jokes and awkward smile or afraid of her finally taking a good look at him only to realize what kind of person he was. He was afraid that she wouldn't like him. Of course, these were all stupid fears. In reality, he loved looking into her eyes like any romantic comedy would suggest. Sometimes, he would see his reflection in her pupils and he felt like some sort of magic had taken him over. Back at her. Perhaps this would have been handled better over the phone or through a letter. He was always good at those. There was a split second longer for him to think over his words before spitting the bad ones out, as if that would've stopped him. These awkward pauses in person he felt just revealed more of himself that he didn't mean to. He didn't need a defensive maneuver, seeing as he didn't need to be on the defensive with this girl, this person, this human being. She just wanted to be real.
Brian glanced out the window again. He pretended to be looking at the trees bordering the park outside, neatly organized according to a plan that would later prove to be impertinent, something he could relate to. He wasn't looking at the people walking by or the cars that glided along, holding other persons. His eyes always tried to focus on his reflection. He never thought himself a narcissist, but he would always stare at himself, trying to figure out what he was doing, holding a mental conversation with his mirror about what was going on. It was a confirmation of his own existence, whatever that may be.
He looked back at Violet, who was also looking out the window, when all of that came to mind.
"Stay here."
He left the cafe and was gone for a few minutes as Violent raised her own eyebrow and nodded.

A few minutes had past as Violet sat there alone.
*THWACK*
She jumped a little. Water had hit the window, distorting the trees, the cars, the persons.

It slowly fell down to reveal Brian hiding behind a neon yellow squirt gun, cocked eyebrow and all. His eyes followed the water for a second. Then back to her.

It was at this point that the author of this blog post realized how silly this whole story was and unintentionally made this awkward! And yet, he posted it! Only one life, I guess.

So I wrote this short story.
And I posted it.
And then I realized that yeah, I didn't like how it came together.

But it's too late to delete it.
This post has been seen.
So this is here now.

Ta-da. :P

Stand vs. Stance

Perhaps you changed in the last hour
Though I never knew where you started from
There's this rhythm and I'm sticking to it
Fluctuating just when I thought it was done

Enough about your eyes, your perfect system
Maybe in the end, it's all the same
Another chance, another reason
To try and forget about this game

There is no stand off
There is no way home
There is no blank check
Changing this room tone

Background noise makes me remember
That the days are all put together
The water is deep, but the walls will hold
Maybe we'll end up for the better

There is no danger
There is no loser
There is no outcome
Fit for the future

When the night comes back around
And we pretend it's never been different
Will I still shedding care
About what you said to him?

There's a time and a place to confess but I don't think that this is it
There's too many "whens" and not enough "ifs" for this reality to be it

I'm sorry.

Holiday Song

All dressed up in a suit
Holding on to the memories
A lane with the bricks well worn

Snow crunching under boots
Strangers cutting down the trees
Celebration like a newborn

So hang out by this digital fire
A welcome rug fit for desire

Neon lights, welcome to the neighborhood
Winter nights, never have I felt this good
How can things ever go wrong
When someone's listening to a holiday song?

There's nothing left to lose
With December falling free
Waiting for that perfect storm

Winter Nights

Hopelessly chasing the sunset
While watching the black trees gallop
Head against glass, this road ain't moving fast
Boy I just can't wait for the TV

I've got nothing better to do
A penny saved is a lesson earned
Tied up with a bow, how could I ever know?
A nice small gift from you to me

Cold winter nights keep me up
When happy holidays get me down
Stuck here, I've no idea what
We're doing hanging around

Cold winter nights keep me up
When holidays get me down
Because I'm spending it without myself,
My friends, my own lost and found

When there's a sign
That the trail is rough
Please let me know
And I'll dig you out
Tonight

After All

Hold on a minute here.

Let me bask in the glory that is my 3 AM loneliness.

The air is still.
There's only the sound of monotonous breathing.

And the faces or lack thereof staring back at me
With those fake longing eyes that greet me
"Come on in, the water's just right"
It's always just right for me.

After all, it's all in my head.
After all.


The dark is slowly creeping in and I'm barely surviving,
Burying myself in artificial light before I let my black sheet swallow me.
I'll be gone for a bit.
But don't you worry.
I'll be back.
I hope.

It's a place that I'm afraid to visit.
Once I'm there, it can go either way.
Once I leave, I want to immediately go back.

But Life won't have it.
Life shackles me to this timeline.

I can go any direction as long as it's forward.
I pick whatever branch I want to follow.
It's my fork in the road,
But I have to pick nevertheless.

Do I make bad choices?
Did I make a bad choice?

Should I have given permission?
Should I have taken those steps?

Yet, the question remains:
Why do I continue to sit here
At 3 AM,
Following a horrible routine?

914 - Square West

What's wrong
with a little bit of good fun?
I know,
I know that the work's never done

But you can still always crash at my place
Tear down the walls, lay on the floor
Make yourself at home, maybe get to first base
I'll try my best to make sure you're not bored

Hey now,
Why are you always on the run?
I know,
I know that the work's never done

As if I had a choice to crash at your place
Tear down your walls, lay on your floor
Make myself at home, daydream about first base
I'll try my best to make sure I'm not bored.

Hey now,

Hey now,

Hey now,

Hey now,

What are you waiting for?

I'm waiting for the difference between me and you
I love the music, the sound, the change in the mood
It's as if we never had a chance to choose
I love the feelings, the greens, the reds, and the blues

But now there's too much left to say
But now I'll let you have your way

Snow on the TV

Another good night gone away
Hoping I'm still interesting

I love every bit of your crazy
Even what you've done for me lately

I was counting down the days until I went home
But now I regret that
Because it's going too fast
The days are going too fast

I'm losing time on this world
Time wasted alone
Decaying my bones

I hate this bed, but every night
I lay down here and hang on tight

Every year I become more and more aware
About the things I didn't know before
All the times we had walking around
Were the best ones I ever had

Honey are we still gray?
Because I feel that you've moved on
Have you been counting the days
Sitting there while ive gone?

White Noise

I believe what I need
Is a dose of chaos

Enough of these notes,
These stanzas
Enough of these jokes,
These punchlines

I need to run
I need to hit the pavement
I need to gun it and never look back

What am I looking for?
It's not the same week to week
What am I looking for?

I'm tired of looking at this surface
I'm tired of looking at what's below
And finding more of the same.

They keep looking over my shoulder.

Red Alert / Belle

Not too late last night
I walked over to her dorm
She wore something different
from the hours before

Took her to an Airborne concert but
like a chemistry joke I got no reaction
What else do I do here?
It's not part of my standard attraction

I guess I could investigate
But in reality I'll leave it to fate
I'll never understand why
She was standing far away and close at the same time

Constant reminders of the
state of her affairs
From her faux leather jacket to the
color of her hair

I guess I could investigate
But in reality I'll leave it to fate
I'll never understand why
She was standing far away and close at the same time

I'll never be the one that you'll wake up to
Is that my fault or just something that you do?

Gazebo

Her hair was unaffected as she sat down
Marble benches her only support
She felt the walls of her womb disappear
She relied on her last resort

But he was nowhere to be seen,
Wise to her teachings and lack thereof
Her hand cold as the stone underneath
Her blood running like scarabs

There is no why. There is no how.
The answers are there for comfort
There are no answers. Only questions.
The teacher had finally learned.

Gone were those moments
Only remnants of them remained

Alas, those ghosts played
Whimsical with their empty fingers
Another two souls tangled
Yet, they never were together

She fell as if she could stand
Tuesday, a lost passage found
Other members grabbing at her dress
Pout, she did. Supporting their dismay

Problems? Probably.
Losing to who? Another ghost.
Evil? Not in the least bit.
Another ghost? Not anymore.
Starting over.
Especially today.

Prologue

"At least take the boy. If you have a heart, take the boy."

The woman stood in the doorway, not pushing her way into the cabin that used to reside in snowy woods, now a garden of dirt and sticky residue. The moon created waves in the ash, turning it into an organism waiting for one wrong move.

It was beautiful.

"Fine, I'll take the boy. But there's no room. I'm beyond capacity as it is."
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me. I'm doing you a favor. You have no idea how much trouble this little shit is going to be."

The woman held her smile weakly. The initial let go was nothing. She knew what had to happen. She knew she didn't have long, maybe until sunrise. Her legacy, whatever that may be, would not die tonight. She felt as if the meaning to her life was this single point in time.

She felt it in her bones, her teeth. She felt it in her lips as they closed for the final time.

George nodded. His beard pushed down against his black and red flannel work shirt, stained and with holes in places. His hair was in a permanent crescent, parted on the right, white as the snow that used to lay on the ground. He took the five year old boy and pushed him inside.

"Mommy!"

A small girl pulled him away by his wrist, whispering that it'd be okay. The boy had tears that continuously fell down his face, but his cries were now silent. George had never seen a child weep in the way the boy did, but pushed his back so he would stumble towards the girl of the same age.

The boy peeked a look out the door, at his smiling mother and then at the bearded giant to his right before looking back at the girl. She had a button nose, with a blue checkerboard pattern dress. The dress had a single pocket sewn across the breast, in which she kept nothing.

George looked at the boy and then at the woman. He blinked slowly, as if to pull in whatever emotion he had developed. His head fell as he closed the door on the stranger, now parted from her flesh and blood. She stared at the door for a long while. The wood was worn and the cracks told their own story. She knew she was this wood, and she could not take care of her son.

She turned around, smile gone. She took a step off of the porch of the cabin and walked towards the never ending maze of broken, charred trees. How they were still standing were miraculous. The woman put her hand to one of the trees, forever warm.

The sun would be up in a few hours. She didn't want to be found this way.

Waking Up

"Do you want me to admit that I'm crazy?"
"N-"
"Is that what you want?"
"No."

The room was painted a steel gray as if to numb some sort of realization.

"I just want to know what you're thinking."

The ceiling was a lighter shade of gray. The florescent lights glowed a solid, transparent white.

"That's a hard demand."

Pause.

"I know."

He was sitting in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable chair. It almost required one to sit up straight. Leaning back would just let him slip right off. That would be embarrassing.

"That's why we're here"
"Is it?"

The other being in the room laid on a cot with a thin mattress, cranked up so he was eye level with the doctor. He wore a button down shirt, buttoned up the whole way with the exception of the top button. It felt like it choked him.

The doctor was dressed like any doctor that was trying to crack someone's mind. A vest covering a blue, long-sleeved shirt. His hairline was starting to recede. His glasses were hanging off the edge of his nose.

And of course, he had a clipboard.

"Why are we here?"
"You tell me."

The doctor was trying to maintain some sort of authority.

It felt like it was raining outside, even though there was no way of telling. There were no windows and only one door. No observation, no witnesses.

"I think I should be angry. After all, I know I'm not crazy. I've said it before, but that's only going to harden your opinion that in face I am crazy. If I call myself crazy, then you'll just remember that you were right in the first place and wear your smug smiles underneath your stout noses."

"Perhaps you're right. How would you know if you're crazy?"
"I think I would feel it."
"Feel what?"

"I'd feel the dizziness pull itself over me. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from falling into some paradoxical void where I realize how limited life really is."

"Isn't that what brought you here?"

Was the doctor really the patient?

"I'm crazy."

"But are you?"

Darkness

I'm running through problems
Can't break through them
Can't bring them down

They're not problems, per say
Just issues.
Things I don't know I want to deal with.
Things I feel would bring other things down.

It's nothing bad.
In fact it happens to everyone.
Eventually.

And the thought has crossed my mind
Many times while crossing the street

That blinding white light we're told to stay away from
Instead of embrace.
Why? I'm not scared of that light.
Just afraid of how I'm going to get there.

Waiting for the roof to come caving in.
For me to explode.
Internally.
Letting my mind wander to places that it shouldn't.
Is it true? Is it not?

Who knows really?
A doctor probably.
There's probably nothing to face.

Not that I want to face anything.

Instead, I'm biting my fingernails,
Listening to the same music,
Listening to the same professors,
Listening to the same architecture.

Everyday I value sleep more and more.
The dreams are what I miss and fear the most.
They're inescapable really.

If I had the choice of sleeping without that colorful imagination
I don't know if I'd take it.
Because dreams can be better than reality.
In fact, they mostly are.

There are no limits.
Even I doubt that statement, however.

Even in my dreams you pull away.

Ah well, life goes on.
Until it doesn't.
But even then.
Even then I doubt that statement.

The leaves, the plants, the animals, the small children have no higher knowledge.
They are not afraid. Even when they are, you can't imagine their emotion.
It's not the same.
The tags and titles we attach to those chemical reactions are nothing more than generalizations.

Perhaps this is the wrong place for this.

I feel like I could spill everything.
I feel like it wouldn't matter.
In a good way.

Instead I have this pounding at the back of my head.
My skull holding my brain splitting in two.

Is home the remedy?
I don't even know.

Exit Plan

We should stop talking
Because then we'll end up dancing
Falling asleep in each other's arms
Wondering where the time went

Or maybe I'll wake up
Get real, understand the issues
Realize what went right
And what fell apart in the end

Can I help you with a problem
that you don't seem to have?
Can I ask for the truth
or do I have to find it myself?

Spikes through my head
Anger pulsing through my veins

Destruction holds me up
and I've got no exit plan

Self-Portrait as Dust

Particles I am partial to.
Once they land are they a pile,
desperate for attention?
an eyesore responsible for a sudden stop in channel surfing?
They are their own boundaries, light and dark.
The hill or valley. A Rubin Vase
But is it rightfully so to call it an entity
or the byproduct of a bigger wheel? Like
Condensation on a soda can,
Do they add Personality?
Or are they to be Eradicated?
Erosion is beautiful but dust is the key.

Self-Portrait as Light

Wave hello, goodbye
Goodnight, I disappear. Locked
Away or banished. Fallen
Aside or driven. Far away
Or into the walls. Light
like gazelle racing into the
darkness of some unknown well.
There sits water. A prism or prison?
Once rain now a reflecting pool where I
Call Home.


(Writing Workshop)

Ohio

Solid Mood
Destruction
Emerald falling down
Suspended above my sense of belief

It's not as simple as that
Three notes hanging vertically
Holding on to the bar
Their twins at their sides

"Please help me"
Is that what I mean?
or is that what I say?
Is it my personality
or my selfish lack of courage?

-

I thought I heard you knocking at my door
But you were no where to be seen
Are you at the library studying the folklore
To figure out how it ought to be?

There was a whisper asking me to follow through
But there was no where for me to go
The trail is lost; did I forget or just not care?
Here's to another comrade gone solo

Hey there Gorgeous,
It's been a while since I forgot about you
Five birthdays speeding by
Memories coming to collide

That same slick smile is pasted on your face

Throw a flower down the barrel
The Brunette couldn't care less
No more stains, make her sterile
What's there to get? This mess?

You and those silk girls never look out of place

I'm not a stalker
Just a quick talker
The cop's daughter
Don't even bother

Getting us where?
Nowhere.

My Life as a Frog

What a rapscallion who teases me
The food, it bores me beyond all belief
What a silly infatuation, flies
They bring me to a feral state of mind
Once they usurp my thoughts I lose my woe
This incandescent love pulls me closer
My hunger is a paragon of life
So juxtapose this color with the white
The dichotomy of flies and bleached bones
Oh well, my cadence means it's time to grow

Strong

Not a candle nor self illumination.
Would it be candid or simply ignorant to call it her conscious?
Her invisible hat tipped slowly,
She steps forward as if to confront yet she stands her ground.
Opinions are forming slowly, caressing the insides of her skull.
Her eyes. They do not simply take and adjust, but give in greater amounts.
They see past the fourth dimension, past her foe.
Knocking at her door or simply getting knocked down? Her gaze is unlimited as she pierces the watery obelisk that
is her foe's exterior
He or she cannot stand, let alone continue.
This gaze is not love or hate.
Neither judgement or holy condensation
hanging on to an empty shell.
This gaze can be infatuation or lack there of.
Her eyebrows are arched in a slight curiousity
that she might know all of the answers.
There's no such thing as a sudden realization.
Those ideas and facts form over time.
The x-axis of the timeline is full of incomplete thoughts
that have yet to become those patents or those copyrighted materials,
Intellectual Property

Black Velvet

Crashing into the surface of the Earth
The one unknown to the rest of us

It's so cliche to understand this space
Why are we having this much fun?

Grind those gears like mission control
You're free to go with a constant reminder
Of the words that you're stuck on
The ones stuck in the rear of your throat

It's starting to breaking apart in my mouth
Dissolving into the brinks of my system

The King is dead but there's a chance of reign
If the rest of us don't give up

Stars
Stars, stars, stars
The words make no sense to me anymore
As they drag across the black canvas
Taking with them my hope, my dreams,
my everlasting sense of being

Brick Wall

After sleeping in I finally got up
Hit the floor, hit the lights
Put on a fresh coat of god who knows what
Inhaled and looked outside

There's another chance I'd be thinking gray
Out of sight, out of mind
Another caught sense of post-teen lust
Now I have crossed the line

You have my blessing to have fun by yourself
But i wont know how to handle it

If you throw caution to the wind
Ill be sure to catch it

I wont know what to do
If i come home and im not with you
because while im away
Make no such mistake
My hearts a one way street named after you

I have no knowledge
beyond the boulevard
The walls are foreign and
the asphalt's feeling hard

The rain has turned to mist
but it's still falling down
My mind has turned to mush,
can't concentrate now

Chained

I bit into the crisp autumn air and stepped forward. The leaves falling, crashing towards the ground in a fit of fury and relief. They finally let go, abiding by the rules of their kind. Whether they realized it or not, the moment was upon them. Below me, the concrete was holding up underneath my weight. The smell of chlorophyll euphoria was only overcome by the gentle breezes carrying the aroma of whatever cart vendor was out for the day. Everything appeared so melodramatic to me.

If I Could Throw Her as Far as I Trust Her, It'd be a World Record

I'm waiting
For something to come by
Something to grab me by the hand

I'm waiting
To be pulled in one direction
And not know exactly where to stand

There's mysteries that have yet to be solved
I pretend to know everything and nothing at all

But there's
A point
Guiding us to the end
Telling us when it's time to come around

I'm waiting...

There's a broken heart underneath these broken seams.
I can't understand why everything is not what I believe
it to be

I'm waiting

Sealed Off

I can't help sway back and forth
Exhaling empty air as I say your name
Do you exist anymore?
It's hard to tell.

Because I'm locked inside this sealed chamber. I don't know what's going on out there. Or maybe I'm out there. Maybe you're all locked inside. At least for the moment. It's so lonely in here. The walls have the same feeling, the sensations have the same effect. It's all for nothing. There's nothing left here. I'm not sure what to do anymore. I'm not sure whether to cry and let it all out or hold it in and pretend that nothing's wrong. Make my place in the world without a worry. But that's hard isn't it? It's hard if I have nowhere to go. There's a strange new place for me, as there is for you.

What is this? Is it all a metaphor? Is it just me being me? Is it another side?

Don't forget me. Don't forget that I'm locked in here.
It's not the same.

Don't forget me.

This Time

Spent the night killing time
Thinking about lost voices
About that time that I almost got arrested

Sitting on the couch
Where'd I'd been before
It's not the same, at least to me, anymore

I put my head in my hands
And wished for the best

I'm starting trouble and I'm not thinking about it
Tearing down brick walls that hadn't been there
Listen to my words this time around
This time around
I wish that I had been there

Is it my imagination
or do I see you standing there?
It's another problem with those late night affairs

Is it desperation
or am I considered normal?
I can't tell the difference between this and dismal

I put my head in my hands
And wished for the best

I'm starting trouble and I'm not thinking about it
Tearing down brick walls that hadn't been there
Listen to my words this time around
This time around
I wish that I had been there

All of This

I forgot what I was going to say
But its okay since I ran out of words
I left them where I grew up
So many habits I had to unlearn

Now it's been a long time
Since I've had a chance to listen
To the silence of my own good
But I'd trade it all back just to do it again

I don't have a battle cry
Or inspiring phrase
All I know is that you're the reason behind all of this

So I head back to the road
Leading toward my instincts
Really what do I need them for
Because none of this is written in ink

From Pittsburgh to the insomniac city
My head's against the window riddled
With common sense and a lack of direction
I'm relying on you to keep me up through this.

Midnight Special

Hurt from the lack of ricochet
Running in the streets
Not knowing where I'm going
It's territory unseen

Hanging out under the stars
The ones that don't exist
They're shooting, missing
Show me your wish

You're not alone
Even if this city's
not real to me anymore

You're not alone
Even in the city
So what do you need me for?

Are you home or not?
It's all the same to me
You could be irresponsible
I'd never know or see.

I'll never know if you'd repeat the words back to me
I'll never know if you'd be okay coming back everyday
I'll never know if you'd be the one to take me away

Will you come back around?
Will I be homeward bound?

Pacific Blue

I was waiting for the waves to wash over me
To sweep me to the ends of the earth
So my only worry would be the question of rescue

But would I really care?
With nothing to control,
there's nothing for me to do
but sit back and float on everything below me

The ocean is not dependent on me or who I am
It owes me nothing and does not discriminate among people.
It has no loyalty, no family to speak of.
It's earned its place, as I have yet to do.

So I wait, hanging by the whisper of the sea foam against my sun burned cheeks.

A List of Rays

Once upon a time, not so long ago
You had me at "ahh yes good song"
I tried to act original
Didn't turn out so well

Though some might disagree
Since it's been nearly three years
And it's been you and me and all other people (*ahem*)
but New York is so far and yet so near.

I remember when I cried going camping
Because my parents weren't in the next room
And now I'm afraid it'll be the same
When I'm a million miles away from you.

There was a time when my thoughts
weren't in English and my beliefs
were another thing all together
and based on your newsfeed.

But what does it mean?
Does it mean I'm coming on too strong?
When every word is written with you in mind?

So it's okay when I cried going camping
Because my parents weren't in the next room
And now I'm know it will be the same
Because I'm a million miles away from you.
A million miles away from you

A million miles away from one of my best friends.

Empty Drawers

[Draft: Feb 11, 2011]

I lent you my heart and you returned it in pieces
you won't borrowing anything of mine anymore

So can I have back my sweater, my hand written letters
They're no good to you now
Give me back my mixer, my copy of twister
You've got no one to play with for now

I wanted to say goodbye and get out
But you stole the words right out of my mouth

Before I knew it, my heart began to break in two
Just like waffles from the iron I gave you

My place is empty, you have it all
You stole my heart as well as my socks
Hanging around with those kind of guys
Fill my chest and my shoes with rocks

So can I have back my sweater, my hand written letters
They're no good to you now
Give me back my mixer, my copy of twister
You've got no one to play with for now

Leaving a Mark

True or fake on the day break
Watching the world burn on its payday

My legs cry out in pain
for sunlight or similar
The distance from my head
to the ground in seconds

I'm losing my experience
As well as my patience

The walls wash in the rain
and beg for history
Pawn the possibilities
There's no guarantees

Standing up against the wall
Not standing up after all

Can't understand, but is it worth it?
Over estimate?
I want to curse it

[Draft Feb 23, 2011]

Hallelujah!

This could be another one of those days
Where absolutely everything is going my way
I said, hey ain't nothing gonna bring me down

There'll be no storm clouds to rain on my parade
Ain't nothing gonna bring me down

I've never felt so happy with L-O-V-E
What other word were you thinking of?
Are you great, are you wonderful, are you splendid?
I think it's all of the above.

So listen to my stories about sunshine-filled mornings
Ain't nothing gonna bring me down

Inhale the smell of sleep hanging on my pillows
Ain't nothing gonna bring me down

I've always wondered what would happen
If I tried to drive straight ahead?
Would there be a detour, a shortcut or something more?
I just hope you're there at the end

Because ain't nothing gonna bring me down!

Forgotten

I whispered to the moon, "Can you hear me?"

I needed to someone to listen in on what was weighing me down. For once, I didn't seem to care even though I was shackled to a brick wall awaiting a sentence. My jacket was now in shreds and the zipper ruined beyond repair, much how I felt. I was in a fight with myself with the stress and pressure closing in. Nothing much was new, but for some reason, those obstacles seemed to stay afar as though I had cast a shield around my soul. However, I knew that this was only a temporary solution. I wasn't strong enough to deal with this on my own.

My slender shadow flowed gently against the concrete floor as if to prove my point. You cannot allow shadows to define yourself. I'm not one to follow my own advice. I could still picture her face and wished she was next to me for support, if not help. I didn't realize how much I counted on her until now. I wouldn't dare reveal that, for fear she too would buckle under imaginary pressure.

Dignity was a luxury I couldn't afford, so I sat there and cried with no one to wipe my face. The salty tears crawled down my dirty cheeks, cleaning my battered face. There's nothing worse than silently suffering.

Any moment now, I was to be unchained and forced to put a bold line through my name in the roster, initiating my "resignation" from The Underground. There wasn't much time left, and I was trying to make the most of it. I revisited the best times of my life. An escape plan wasn't possible, and because I ignored that possibility, I relived those times we sat on the porch swing and the visits in the basement of that broken home. They were all gone, and soon I would join them among the forgotten victims of a civil war.

I saw hope in that full moon and looked up to it in search of an answer.

Driver Tonight

I look at the clock, it's 11:45
I'm waking up with you by my side
Trapped inside this travelling car
Head against the glass looking up at the stars

You're the only one I want to drive with tonight
You're the only one that can drive me right
You take the hill roads nice and easy
So I don't get super queasy
Be my driver tonight

I never know where we go
The map's a myth so let's ride real slow
Let's travel on despite conditions
Let's fight for our own traditions

Because you're the only one I want to drive with tonight
You're the only one that can drive me right

Looks like we're lost, but we're following the streetlights
Don't wake up the neighbors though you probably wouldn't mind

Can we pull over?

Evergreen

I'm walking down the hall
and I see your pretty face
And if I fall for you
I'll put my arms out just in case

I find myself asking
Will we ever meet again?
Was this our first goodbye?
Or was it just coincidence

Sometimes I wonder
If you're a witness to my blunders
Then again sometimes I don't care

There's no rhyme or reason
to my little acts of treason
It's part of my cross to bear

You're the courtesan of cute
and I've got everything you need
But it's not something
that you want

Showers

Her name was Rain
and she smelled like the after math
of a hundred storms upon
my backyard
The dew, the perfect accent
to my perfect evening
The one I spent with
Rain
Lost in the middle of nowhere
Falling apart in the needles of her
lost desire
Her heart, beating against mine
Beating against my chest like the
Rain

Is this love shallow like the waters we frequent?
Is this excessive or simply misunderstood? The End.

Rain, here it comes, pouring on me like a sudden rest.
Drenching me enough to sleep in your presence, Rain

So it goes

The book was filled with the names of everyone who was there or at one point in time there. It was worn and the pages crisp and slightly stained from age. The names were written in red pencil by those who were there. Although hundreds or thousands appeared to pass through, the book was far from full. The names filed into two columns. Two columns per page. Twenty names per column. As he flipped through the book, he noticed the crossed out names of those who passed through this very hallway. Prisoners to be executed were to cross their own name out as if to check out. It was a cruel punishment to delete oneself from existence. One down, hundreds to go. The names were ordered in the name they would arrive, which didn't necessarily meant it would be the same leaving.

He was pushed forward and had his knees taken out from under him. His tattered jacket fell around his shoulders from the sharp rip in its back. The hood molded to the back of his head, offering only the smallest sense of security. He gave up trying to maintain his posture and relaxed his spine so his hair touched the floor. Then he touched his face to the concrete. His rested his nose on a crack. It was cold.

Someone in black pushed him forward so he fell sideways and slowly pulled his legs closer to his body. Fluorescent lights turned on. They flickered for an eternity before finally settling in a glowing position. They didn't help his disposition but instead illuminated the slimed green walls that were in desperate need of repair. They weren't forgotten, but were not acknowledged. Those walls were expected to last and so they did. Whoever was with him had evidently left. He thought he heard a subway train go by, screeching along, transitioning flawlessly through the confluence of the metal tracks. It was only the wind by his ears. The milieu was stationary in time and could have existed in any number of decades. The Underground was a museum dedicated to the assumed.

His eyes watered, but he didn't cry. He closed his eyes although it pained him. Suddenly, the real world had become scarier.

Green Light

I admit that I am lonely
And it's not an easy hole to fill
It takes a certain someone
And I'm asking if you will

The other girls, they are so empty
So empty beyond repair
You can't save them, only give them
Their idea of care

But I've got a sign hanging on my heart
That reads reserved for her, if she wants the part
If the stage will be hers again...

We shared our first dance on the stage
Standing in the spotlight
Then we made our way backstage
Under the cover of night!

Snow Day

Snow day,
Nothing else to do today
I could catch up on homework
or maybe go back to sleep

Anyway,
I'm glad there's no school today
I'm so bored and I'm hazy
So this is quite a treat

What's a boy to do, as to not waste this day?
I guess I could go outside or stay inside and play

Snow day
Better than a two hour delay
Lay my head on a pillow in my bed
And hope this lasts all week

But someday
We'll have to go back to that place we hate
Just pretend there's no tomorrow
and we'll pretend that it's not too late

Crescent

Streaks falling across the sky
Begging for redemption along the horizon
Hanging on for its dear life
Once it's spent its worth, it burns into the sun

The pitch black crawls and gnaws
Needle marks scar the perfect photograph
Before too long, they were all gone
Saving the echoes of everyone's last laugh

Last reserves of the nuclear bomb
Served as the reminder of what once was
The symbol of the rebellion wall;
The symbol of the rebellion lost cause

Finally aligned, they cast a shadow
Watch from afar and listen to the whispers
of the cheering children below
The choir asking for that perfect picture

With every sunrise comes the following day
With every shallow breath is another way

Here is where it starts and here is where it will end.

Existential Doubts

What am I?
A bag of repetitive phrase?
Redundant thoughts and emotions?
Part of a species too self-aware?
Recycled thoughts?

I know what I like, and it happens to be you.
Oh there he goes again with his second person pronoun reference,
using random words that semi-describe what he's saying.
There he goes again, using commas excessively and wondering
what you're really thinking
There he goes, breaking up sentences over lines
in a way that seems somewhat poetic.

There he goes, staring straight down at the table.
He's lost in thought, staring at the same paint pattern.
Chances are that he's thinking of you.
When he realizes that he has, it's too late.
He's fallen behind.
Integrate, deliberate.
Don't argue.
It's true.
When his eyes sparkle, it's often because of you.
When he crashes, he probably tried to impress you.
When he makes a fool of himself, it's a desperate attempt.
A desperate attempt to make you laugh, to make you smile.

When he opens his phone, he types the same words over again.
He hopes for a different response and hopes to keep it open.
But really, when will he get the clue?
When will he stop rambling on?
When will he finally, after three years of hitting his head against the wall, expose the fool he really is.

The one you never wanted him to be.
It wasn't to be.

When will he stop coding everything in dumb similes and metaphors,
pretending he knows his way around the English language enough to
pretend that you don't know.

With every "her", every "you", he's probably thinking of you.
Every word is not etched in stone, but it might as well be.
Deleted text is scarred in the brain.
Every word, every motion.

It's over analyzed until he finally lays his head down.
It's never too late; Stress inducer or reducer?

He refers to himself in the third person in an attempt to distance himself from the boy he really is.

The one that doesn't know what else to say other than, "I'm sorry"
The one that somehow manages to pack so many feelings into so few words.
Whatshisname?

This boy sees every situation. His plot thickens with every twitch of your mouth and every indirect motion.

Every hug, every glance.
Every shift, every dance, or lack thereof.

He kicks himself, damns himself, and runs on to catch up.
He wonders what went wrong and what's right.

He pretends to know what you believe in and who your friends are.
He pretends that these words will actually do anything, or do nothing, whatever is less destructive.

He's far too gone, past the point of wishing sweet dreams or good night.
They are not returned, reason unknown, reasons speculated.

It's never too late. He begs to differ.
I beg to question.

I wonder what you will do once you've read this and thought about what it means.
Does it mean anything?

In the end, we'll never know.

Red Ribbons

They rejoice in their own lack of ignorance
Standing high upon their hill
Burning the notes that made them glance
the other way for a thrill

Acting tough and scoffing at stuff
Disregard the radio
Taking charge, taking the helm
It's Hell or highway now.

Can you feel it?
Can you beat it?

Hear them laugh, hear them cry
Over lost adolescence
Sending messages to die
It's a country that makes no sense

There's no right idea, today or tonight
Don't ask about tomorrow
Lost in the puddle of elites
Drowning through the sorrow

Do you have your gavel, your underlying independence?
Do you have your sad soul trapped in civilians?

Sit right next to me
And tell me
That you're listening...