Untitled

I miss the music more than anything

Sure, I miss the rest

But the music... 

it was the heartstring connecting both our chests

I'll admit the fault

But it's always tricky with regret

I have grown, and I have changed

I am learning what it means to love myself again

It was a trade I did not bargain for

I instead took it full price

Knowing it would leave me broke

Having to scrimp and save to make things right

I learned a lot about saving

Saving grace, saving face,

saving the remains of my spirit...

what was broken I saved to replace 

But the music is one thing I did not save

Notes and rhythms scattered

When I try to piece them back together,

I'm missing part of the vision that made them matter

I guess I need to write a new composition

that'll piece itself together and create a better vision

The Needle and The Thread

Scared of leaving

Scarred from all the good bye cuts

Documented on paper, slicing quiet and thin

One after the next didn't love you enough

So you're scared of leaving

Not you, you think I'm the next to go

My song, honesty mixed with sweat and blood

Like I'll send you the lyrics, but I'll leave before the show

But No! 

This is not the way this goes.

I am not them, and you are not me, and you can not see.

I too have enough scars in my past

I won't waste my time to draw another line, create another cut that will last.

I was given a needle, so I scratched, and I slit, and I severed.

But you came along. And you're the thread that pieced me back together. 

My needle had a greater purpose. 

You sang your song of honesty, and made my life worth it. 

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I keep checking in

on the things I've checked out of my life

Perhaps a need to do better

Than the things I've left behind

What a wreck

If the things I thought I'd passed

Suddenly passed me

Then what would I be?

Besides a hope filled failure

who's dreams will never be reality.

But yours are I see. 

Lucky.

And I have all these goals

Too much, too many to achieve

Things above my level of intellectual capacity

But I think if I try I can be anything?

As long as I'm not wasting my life

And the things I'm trying for 

end up the things I can do right

I can't handle any more failure

even if the hand wasn't meant to be mine.

It's the hand I got dealt. 

But your hand wasn't much better. 

How come your life stayed together?

My streak can't last forever. 

Lines and Times

The things I never told you

Fairytale visions I couldn't live up to

But I thought if I wait, it'll all come true

Now I'm a broken mess

With lines and times I keep trying to undress

But if I'm new, I'll forget the rest

I'm puking visions of my past

Dry heaving memories that are only shadows cast

Too sick to realize what did and did not last

And I can't sleep at night

The medication helps, but the feeling isn't right

If I don't, I have nightmares I'm too paranoid to fight

Now everybody knows my cause

I thought that if I told them I'd eliminate some flaws

Turns out all I did was shine a light on things I saw

Or didn't see

Either way, the vision sticks with me

And I miss who I used to be

But the fairytale is no longer my reality

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Sometimes I think I cant write a happy song

I keep all my focus on everything that’s going wrong

But don’t think that means I don’t love you dear

I’ve got nothing to complain about, so I just don’t write it here

 

We spend our time racing kites against the skies

We run around in circles, laugh until it makes us cry, and

You turn the gears of this well-oiled machine

And I sing my pretty songs and play these brand new strings

 

There’ll be times when you keep me up at night

Wondering what comes of this, and if we’ll turn out alright

But then you pull me under, with the sheets over our heads

And you kiss me like you know we’re right, like we should never leave this bed

 

We spend our time racing kites against the skies

We run around in circles, laugh until it makes us cry, and

You turn the gears of this well-oiled machine

And I sing my pretty songs and play these brand new strings

 

Steel Strings

The nostalgia is too much

How when it comes, it comes, and hits me with a rush

I try to save the dreams you've crushed

and you give me every reason to call your bluff

So I'll wrap myself in something warm

To calm this chill, and arm my alarm

Next time I'll be prepared for when you show

Instead of crying like a child who can't be left alone

And I'll let your poetry flow through my veins

before packing it in storage where it forever will remain

I still feel passion, but I still have my pride

and here is where my broken feelings reside

Every note tapped on steel strings of that guitar

are a reminder in the end, that I haven't come that far

So please get out of my head

If just for the same reasons I got out of your bed

I don't have room enough to share

with all the other lovers vying for your stare

Why do we cling to the things that tear us down?

Like our pain's a sense of comfort we just can't live without

I still feel passion, but I still have my pride

and here is where my broken feelings reside

Every note tapped on steel strings of that guitar

are a reminder in the end, that I haven't come that far

face

sometimes, i think if I can make everyone else more aware,

then one day, I just won't care,

and all of these memories will be replaced

with more important reasons to stay in this race

then the ones I have now.

Because while it's gotten better, 

it's still not who I am somehow.

And the fact that he's never seen my face

before I cried

makes me feel pathetic, 

because he'll only see how hard I've tried

to keep the face

the one that I had to put on in the old one's place

the one that's just a waste. 

I wish he could see me in my old space. with my old face.

trash

the thought of you 

made my stomach turn today

not like "im so sick"

but more like "what did i throw away"

and i'm digging through my mental trash..

knowing there's a reason this shouldn't be rehashed...

hoping its the season change thats bringing back my past....

and sure enough

on the bottom of the pile...

a years worth of denial

i guess thats the thing about trash.

if you never empty it, it just keeps coming back

Cacophony of Sound

How would it feel if I took your words

right out of your damn mouth

Threw them up and juggled them

then tossed them to the ground

I'll paint a pretty picture 

with the remnants on the tile

And wrap it as a thank you gift

for all of your denial

You. You cause a cacophony of sound

That plays over in my head, refusing to turn down. 

You. You pluck at strings rusting at the root

Causing rotten melodies that I cannot refute. 

I'll play out pictures with my words

Ignite movies in my head

They glide upon my white walls 

like a ghost among the dead

I'll slice the slides you put inside

and rearrange all that remains

I'll cut and paste your pretty face

the way it reigns inside my brain

You. You cause a cacophony of sound. 

That plays over in my head refusing to turn down

You. You pluck at strings rusting at the root.

Causing rotten melodies that I cannot refute. 

You. You cause a cacophony of sound.

Drowning out my judgement until I must lie down. 

You. You strip me of the thoughts inside my mind. 

Leaving vacant spaces where there's nothing left to find.