Typical

It was the kind of coffee shop where they would play Shins music all day if they could away with it, and most of the time, they did. That was the last thought he had before pulling up his hood and stepping out into the uninviting breezes of the afternoon in Pittsburgh. Even the door resisted, as if to tell him, "You don't wanna go out there." What choice did he have? The tambourines kept ringing in his head and he had to pull away. Nothing mutes The Shins in a coffee shop. The brick work in the sidewalk was uneven from wear and the nature of bricks, he'd supposed. Puddles had grown in the wrong places, showing him sea level. He didn't know where he was going, but he needed a walk. He tried to zipper up his jacket for the hundredth time that day, only to expect a different result than the slipping of the teeth and a pointless contraption. He peeked in the coffee shop window before heading off, seeing that the cashier was changing shifts with a teenaged girl. They were a dichotomy of servers, she bright and happy to work in a place that she'd admired since she first stepped in and the twenty-something man leaning up against the back counter with tired eyes. It was the first that made him smile all day and he hid it to avoid embarrassment as he pushed off his hood to run his skinny fingers through his hair. The light drizzle mixed with whatever cream he put in his hair to make it seem as if he was putting forth some sort of effort to be in style. His shadow on the brick wall spoke otherwise. Spikes in random directions, a lanky figure trying to stand straight up. He didn't know if he was doing that to impress himself or others. Maybe standing tall would make him appear more confident, although this was clearly not the case. He wished he didn't know better so he could stop walking and just stare up into the sky, mouth open, waiting to drown until someone cared enough to bump him back into reality.

Fall Back

The S.S. Tropicana has met its untimely end
Unable to correctly steer the drowning friendship
The bonds have held together as well as the waves
Everyone is holding on, having seen those better days.

You owe me a solid, left me in a state that matters
Would you cut me some slack, and could I ever go back there?

I started for point B, which really only made sense
No point in point A, scoring less points in lessons
I could call my friends, but would it matter to them?
As I end every conversation with an ugly question

I hate to say that my staff won employee of the month
But I'm afraid that you'd get that and be tougher than I thought

Mark me down, correct, and double check the bubble
Hanging on the edge of the ledge of knowledge's rubble
What do I know, it's all dissolving together
Oh no, is it worth solving for worse or for better?

Catch me as I say sweet dreams and fall into your lap
Forgive me as I drool in sour nightmares and slowly fall back

Into what I used to be
Into what I used to be
Into what I used to believe was me

Catch Me

It's been left here,
left to gather dust
We'll never be around
it's not a want, its become a must

I'm sorry that I hurt you today
By looking at you then looking away
But every time I try to blink
I fall down as my heart sinks
This carpet isn't as good looking as you.

I wonder what became,
became of those worn words
They seemed to disappear
Like the pages ripped and tore

I'm sorry that I hurt you today
By looking at you then looking away
But every time I try to blink
I fall down as my heart sinks
This carpet isn't as good looking as you.

Will we walk towards the sunset
Like we once both promised?
Or will it turn to ash in the end?

Will we put on sunglasses
And see who walk backwards fastest?
Or will we need another ampersand?

Rain Drops

A phone call.

The ring echoing down the dimly lit hall of another household in a family oriented neighborhood. The late afternoon sun filtered by the stained glass reached for the handset. The yellow school bus stopped at the same curb at its routine time. It dropped off its routine children. All the homes shared the mindset and a floor plan. Go to school, get an education, succeed. Push your children to do the same. Every few years, the houses went through a generational cleansing. The elderly moving into care and their children repainting the outsides.

Another ring.

She'd timed it out perfectly. Her afternoon shower fogged up the mirror and the room was a sauna by the time she'd undressed and opened the door. The heat hit her and gathered all along her body. Before she'd had a chance to soak her hair, an unneeded interruption. Wasn't it enough that her conservative neighbors lifted their noses at her being a single mother? She couldn't catch a break from those loquacious bastards. Was it her fault that her husband managed to work his way around the community helping out the other wives with leaky faucets and broken dryers? Now she managed to laugh at the fact that most of them hung their laundry out to dry in their always freshly cut backyards. She used to blame herself, her imperfections. Now she knew better and she knew that every time she looked at her little girl.

Another ring.

She frowned as she hit the tap and grabbed her robe. She stepped downstairs and managed to grab the phone mid-ring.

"Hello?"

Her toes gripped the new carpet. The imprint of her left foot became wet around edges from the only limb she managed to get under the warm water of her shower.

"Ms. Henderson?"

The voice seemed a little too heavy-hearted for this time of day. Somehow people around here managed to stay peppy through the day. She knew better than to watch TV past 10 PM, though.

"Yes?" she answered in a false disposition.

The sound of breathing was heard slightly in the background.

"Yes?" she repeated. The other end hung up before she managed to get out her one syllable response.

"Loon." She put the phone back down into its perfect position. The sun went behind clouds and instantly darkened the naturally-lit hallway. She turned to walk upstairs when the phone rang again.

She sighed.

Ring.

She waited for the ring to finish as if to punish the person on the other side before picking up and answering in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Yes?"

She heard a man swallow and couldn't help but smile slightly at his nervous attempt at conversation. Finally someone that felt worse than her.

"There's a problem concerning your daughter, Ms. Henderson."

Her sheepish grin went away as all the worse scenarios flew through her head. Each one become worse before she called herself to order, scoffing that anything bad could happen in this neighborhood.

"We have records stating that you make approximately thirty-four thousand a year."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"We also know that you choose to deposit 15% of your bimonthly check in a savings account."
"Who is this?"

The carpet was soaked almost all the way through and when she lifted her foot, she could feel the sponge effect of the carpet taking it all in.

It was only a few moments before she quickly put his questions together. She leaned and then fell against the wall and slid down to the floor, pulling the phone with her.

"Ms. Henderson, we expect your savings account to be empty by the end of the day, placed in a bright blue school backpack and left outside the school inside of the drained fountain before 6 A.M. tomorrow."

Blood drained from her head, leaving her forehead a cold, sweaty mess.

"I...I.."
"Don't worry, Ms. Henderson. We're confident you'll be able to comply with our given guidelines. Also, should you decide to go the 'authorities', be prepared for traumatizing news."

Tears fell slowly as they stuck to the curvature of her thin face.

"I'll understand your silence as a realization of how serious this situation. Remember, Ms. Henderson, 6 A.M. tomorrow inside of the drained fountain. What color?"

She continued to stare straight ahead at the white wall, making shapes with her mind, unable to comprehend what has just happened. This didn't happen to people like her, she kept thinking. How could the man with the nervous voice do something like this to her? Her daughter was her only hope in the world. Ever since her husband, the neighbors, her daughter was the only one that stood by her side. She didn't know how much that meant to her.

"Ms. Henderson?" The voice cracked mockingly.

And now what? This son of a bitch talking through a phone line. Another tear rolled out.

"Bright blue," she croaked sadly, breaking the silence.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Remember, no cops." He hung up like an employee from customer service: speaking softly, relieved that he didn't have to deal with an angry complaint.

The phone fell to her side. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds again, illuminating the hallway where she sat against the wall, eyes open. She looked out the window of the door to see a piece of bright sky blue glass. Bright blue. Her favorite color.

Too Far Gone

The first time I saw you, you were with him
He was riding with you home, so innocent
I was astounded by my friend, How lucky was he?
The doors opened, now what do you need?

Hey girl,
Do you need a little direction?
Hey girl,
Do you need to be led astray?

Spanish and boys confuse her
All I know is I never want to lose her

Where's my valentine?
Is she the same one I had in mind?
Does she need a little guidance?
Is she tucked away in distress?

Who am I, but just a guy
To waste the minutes away with?

The next time I saw you, we were again riding home
Chatting on the bus, you still mildly unknown
While the rest were talking, you kissed his cheek
Looking somewhat out of place, simply listening.

Hey girl,
Do you need a little direction?
Hey girl,
Do you need to be led astray?

Why does everything she says to me
Translate to "in your dreams"?

Where's my valentine?
Is she the same one I had in mind?
Does she need a little guidance?
Is she tucked away in distress?

Would you ever melt in my hands like my heart does in yours?
Am I that friend that you never realized you had?
I'll go back to when it rained, in order to clear this debt of pain
To kill the drought of what should've been...

Where's my valentine?
Is she the same one I had in mind?
Does she need a little guidance?
Is she tucked away in distress?

Does she even believe?

Undulate

Back and forth.
And back and forth again.
I kept falling in between this dream of a better place. Not perfection, per say, but somewhere where the dirt under my fingernails didn't become an unwanted daily routine. Oh ho, this place wouldn't have to be perfect, but it would also be all relative. A place where the chorus of angels would be heard outside my window everyday as the sun gently touched my face and left soft shadows on yours. Where every shade was a highlight and every smile was another day gone. I would keep trying to open my eyes to convince myself that this was real and you would keep laughing at my attempt. Your face would scrunch and I would drown in the sheets.

Back and forth.

But instead of cotton, I wake up to concrete and mud dried on my face. My ridiculous attempt at survival is a tidbit of comedy to the public. The vehement expression on my face wiped all smiles and crashed all shadows. Any window would be lucky to be whole when the sun poisoned its delicate construction and whatever hid behind it. I couldn't breathe but it was like my prayers were answered. In those few lifeless moments, I was back where I though I belonged. I was someplace just outside of home. The mud left a crust on my cheeks, but I was in no rush to brush it off. Let them think what they think. Let them see this dirt on my face and run to conclusions while their feet carry them faster than they know. They're there before they left, and their left is left for dead. They drag themselves along for the right of way only to die in a frenetic mess on the trashed concrete.

I stood up.

I looked towards the door, hoping to make a break for it. I shouldn't have stood up so fast. My blood liked where it was, resting and catching its breath. I stood there with my legs slightly apart, head in a daze, not sure which way to run. Not enough strength to jump to conclusions here. I didn't know where everyone was located or whether or not they were already on me. My jacket hung on me in drapes as I stumbled forward.

Mistake.

I continued to stumble and ended up exactly where I started. The laughter started to chime in again, and I fell back into that dream land with mud baked to my face. I closed my eyes in the most natural way possible, as if this is what they were made for all along. A window shade on this horrible world. Sudden shocks would jolt them open and make me remember. Open, then closed. Open again. Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Desmond

I believe in the Lord and I believe in Christ,
But I don't believe in the sacrifice
I play all day and I pray all night,
for that one right one track mind.

I hold onto myself and I hold on to the world
I hold on until the truth unfolds.
I cry my eyes and I satisfy,
for that one right one track mind.

I grasp my reality and my demise,
but I lose the grip that's on my vice
I dream all day of the cold, dark night,
for that one right one track mind.

I drown under this, the bloody fingerprints,
but I keep afloat on empty presence
I scream all day into the shallow night,
for that one right one track mind.

I lack my inspiration.
Taken by desperation.
I've lost motivation
Therefore communication.

I've got one right shot left
at whatever one track mind is left