crossed wires – 3.4.2018

we keep trying to make sparks

-or is it just me?

your honesty and my ears

are a thousand miles apart

-how long has it been since

you’ve told me the truth?

 

and maybe no one notices

and maybe the machine still works

lifting you up and carrying you off

and leaving me here to wonder

where you’ve gone

 

these crossed wires

are starting a fire

-that you’ve chosen to ignore

i’ll let it smolder on

from where it rests within my chest

until it finally burns through

and i am left

with

emptiness

Advertisements

stay down (original song)

i learned how to touch the ground from the day that i was born. you learned how to fly instead, from the day that you were born. and “oh what a magical pair,” they say, “oh, they’ll complete each other one day, cause he’ll always come back and she can’t fly away.”

they say, they say: [the world looks bigger down here, and the clouds don’t really keep you down if you don’t think about it too much. its cold in the sky blue, and the birds look funny at you, oh it’s better to just stay down. it’s better to just stay down, stay down.]

we’d build castles high, we’d build palaces from the stones that you let go, and you tried so hard to show me how to release my grief. you told me how it felt to be high; to let the sun pull you up into the sky

but i never tried, no i never tried, i’d say: [the world looks bigger down here, and the clouds don’t really keep you down if you don’t think about it too much. its cold in the sky blue, and the birds look funny at you, oh it’s better to just stay down. it’s better to just stay down, stay down.]

oh, there’s monsters on the ground, there’s danger all around, but maybe it’s just in your brain. unlock the shadow gate and let them fly away, say all the things you didn’t say, cause:

[the world looks bigger up here, and the clouds don’t even keep you down if you don’t let the rain stop you. it’s warm in the sky blue and the birds fly with you, oh it’s better to not stay down, you better not just stay down, stay down.]

an honest ramble – 1.2018

 

sometimes its up, sometimes its down

sometimes i feel my eyes

soften as i look at you,

and sometimes looking at you

only makes me want to cry.

 

we talked about people who only

put their best foot forward,

and that’s what you do with me-

involuntarily, but still-

i only know the you that comes out in the day.

 

still i’d like to talk the day away with you,

would you like that too?

sometimes it seems as if you would

(but wonder if you really should).

 

i hope that there’s no part of me that

sticks out as a flaw,

because all i see of you is

tempered; cool and strong.

 

you’re an ever-present presence in my mind,

an always shifting mirage of a man.

you surprise me when i’ve set a boundary,

mostly on how i should feel for you.

i try to control it but i know i never do.

 

and yet i feel i know you like i

don’t know no one else.

and yet you make me feel like

a stranger, still, sometimes.

 

sometimes i write an angry poem;

but most of all my words are sad.

it’s only in these lines that i can

truly show my honesty-

if it’s tied up pretty with a

rhyme and a bow

then it doesn’t matter who reads it;

 

it doesn’t matter who knows.

but i could never say this to your face.

maybe that’s why i write so

goddamn many poems about you

 

maybe i hope that one day you’ll

stumble across a page

and somehow realize it’s you

that i’ve been in love with

all this time.

this storm (song) – 11/1/17

the sky is green, the clouds hang heavy over everything. the air is mean; i feel the sting of everything,

everything that you said before you called this storm over me.

it’s bittersweet how all these memories have taken on the smoke from the wildfires. the fields burned quick, but they left behind the trees, standing tall for all that they believe.

well i stood there, as you covered me in flame, until this rain came over me. until this rain poured over me. until this storm passed over me.

i’ve seen it all before. we’ve all heard the thunderstorms, but if you happen to find yourself beneath a cloud, by all means, stay

and let the rain wash it all away. let the rain wash away your pain. let the rain wash it all away.

9-25-17

i think i know now why i held on for so long.

it wasn’t that your stories were so grand or your eyes so enticing,

not your laugh putting me at ease or your touch so inviting.

it was the prospect of your love that i was truly reaching for

no matter how i chose to look at you all i saw was an open door

to a world i’ve never known, but oh

i’m sure the grass is greener- they’ve told me that the air is sweeter.

in the end i could see myself living there with you,

and that golden sun ray floating in was what kept me

believing that this love was true.

9-22-17

you say you’ve got it all figured out, but i can see through your skin. transparency was always something that you couldn’t help from coming easily. even though you didn’t let me in you let me knock upon the glass. i saw your room, cluttered with sadness, and the darkness clinging to your walls. your routine of motions like a list, waiting for to-do. you stick to it sometimes but its all too easy to let yourself give in to that carefully avoided but all too tempting sin. you forgot to turn the light off; i can see that you’re home. the summer storm came rolling in and now your window is broken. i can hear the song you’re singing but it’s not music to my ears. the syllables of silence sound all too familiar. you’re humming that old memory of wooden floors and autumns kiss; you’re filling up your mind with everything you’ve missed but you make no move to catch it- it slips through your fingertips and you’re staring out the window wondering how it came to this.

your room – 9/24/17

i could build a house with all these thoughts, fill it up with all my days.

i could build a room for you if perhaps you’d like to stay.

there’d be old wood on the floor since i’ve loved you for so long

and curtains on the windows i’ll keep closed when you are gone.

i’ll throw these papers on the walls, cover white with words of you

and maybe they’ll all make sense-

who knew that walls could speak so true?

i’ll make a bed for you to sleep in, stuff the pillows with your lies

so that you’ll feel right at home on top of all your loosely cloaked goodbyes.

i’ll paint a picture in a frame and leave it on the desk

of who you made me think you are, an open heart upon your chest.

i’ll leave it there for you to see, though you won’t recognize your face-

to see all the good inside yourself compiled in one place.

i’ll weld a lock upon the door, mold it with my all-too-trusting hands.

i’ll set the key down on the floor so you’re the only one who can

go inside, if you wish. i’ve been in there for too long.

i’ve sat upon the chair that you gave me with your songs

of better days and hopes and dreams. i felt your comfort in the creaks

of the dresser drawers you painted with your many gold beliefs.

i held your shirts in my hands to feel the softness of your voice

until one day i finally left the room, finally by choice.

though the room is locked and way upstairs, sometimes i hear you walking.

like a ghost inside my mind, sometimes i hear you talking.

but the words just drift away, much like you did overtime

so i open up the windows to feel the quiet breeze outside.