Red

I had that dream again

Where the ceiling falls and everything is red

And every time you're there

With the depths of oceans coming from your pointed stare

And oh, you still pull me under

Oh, just like when we were younger

Oh, when my body hits the sea

Don't forget to look for me 

You woke up screaming again

Can't seem to stop the ghosts from getting in your head

You wield your words like knives 

to show the world it hasn't won tonight

The Flowers fell from our halos
leaving only thorns And stems

the petals swept into our closets

We decorate our skeletons

 The cuts you made to my body
the wounds you stitch and sew
 I'm tearing at the seams blindly to try to get to your bones

Untitled

The problem with having no memory
is that it fills itself in as it pleases
With falsities
With four, four, four going on five
With polaroids that have yet to be determined

Rise Up.

What rises?

The sun. On another day of four, four, four, going on five.

Vomit. Real nausea that accompanies fake memories.

Heart rate.

Temper.

Heat.

Questions.

Words. Piles and Piles of letters and sounds.

Silence.

If I assume no one is reading this it must be true.

But I can still always just say that I'm talking to you.

Directions, please.

Write. Right?

I need to write. To make things right.

Instead of focusing on the things I have left behind.

I'm trying to find my voice.

It seems I may have topped myself

when things hit the bottom.

Now nothing I write sounds right.

And I'm just rearranging pieces of what I have left.

But it's alright to not know what to write, right?

I think I need directions, please.

I hate to admit it, but I seem lost.

So Sorry

Read me like a diary
Truths and treacheries
No ones meant to see
When the pages
all went up in flames
Did you feel it?
Feel me in your veins?

Ashes always turn to dust
I'm a mystery
With a lack of trust
And Ive learned now
that I can survive
Or maybe
I'm just telling myself lies

And I'm sorry, sorry, so
So what's new
But it always comes back to you

These new shoes
don't erase the path
that i walked before
or its aftermath

The seasons changed
but without much grace
they left coffee stains
and a slap in the face

And I'm sorry, sorry, so
So what's new
But it always comes back to you
And I'm sorry, sorry, so
So what's new
But it always, always comes back to you...

I haven't written in some time

I think my mind has forgotten 

how to unwind...

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. 

untitled

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

untitled

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. 

 

Spoken Word

What do you do when you're dead but still alive?

When you want to show strewn handprints down your chest

and through your thighs

So you lift your shirt

But there's nothing there to prove what he did or how it hurt

It's like invisible ink

Shine the light but be careful not to blink

Or you'll miss it

But I'll never miss it

Everything is reminiscent

It's like a picture with a flash

It blinds my eyes but the memory is still intact

But he says the memory isn't real

He says...

It wasn't me and I didn't do it

If she doesn't remember she'll never prove it

She'll just lose it

Her faith

Her dignity

Her self esteem

Her fire

The things that lit her up, made her laugh, and made her smile

Is this some sort of test?

Of my strength? Of my courage?

Cuz I'll never be brought down

And I'll never be discouraged

Let me take a moment to tell you how it is

You'll never break my spirit

My determination lives

And I'll take this as an opportunity

From whatever is up above

To prove to myself that I can still love

And I'll wear your hand prints as tattoos 

Not because I have something to prove

But because I have something to give...

Alive or dead?

I'll choose to live.

The End of a Trilogy

So the leaves changed from green to red

Burnt with fire and left for dead

Screaming symphonies, creating a stir

Motionless chaos we view as a blur

With the change came a sudden downpour

Filling city streets, battling for power

The destruction they left has created a void

Your heart grows dimmer, and the trees are overjoyed

Why must the seasons battle our love

Rip us apart as they laugh from above

Who will have the last say in this war?

Distance over love will win nevermore

Memories of Twilight

And so the seasons changed without us

Our laughter changed to pain

They stripped us of our strength

And left an ache we cannot tame

It was I who asked the question

Filled with uncertainty and fear

Distance failed to make the heart grow fonder

It only placed upon it more wear 

Instead of coffee stains, it's blood

Instead of smoke filled rooms, it's liquor

I sweat, but chills will follow

The air seems to get thicker

Balance remains unseen

Once the scales have been tilted

The hidden risks arise

To be left, To be jilted

Am I still the angel and the siren alike?

Does my echo keep you up, can you not sleep at night?

Do you play my lullabies, and picture me there?

Say yes, before the seasons turn a new and hopeless year

Untitled

I have a poor excuse

I trust too easy

And it's left me broken

I had to. These are your words

You had to hurt me

Before I hurt you

And now I'm left with hand prints

No one can see them

But you. And I. 

Amazing how you place the blame

Make assumptions

Over a girl you'll never know

You have done nothing but redeem my faith

That not everyone can love

Not everyone deserves to be loved

The world is full of ugly people

If you don't mind

I'd prefer to be alone

Orange Rind

I had a dream last night

That I wrote my suicide poem,

the words of which where unclear to me,

In black magic marker

On an orange.

I placed the orange in a green teacup,

Saucer and all,

Put it on an empty counter

And sat. Waiting. 

For someone to come along

And peel away my last words.

To devour my thoughts.

And let me die in peace.

The Western Tunnel

The western tunnel was closed today

People in cars had to find another way

I sat on the pike watching them pass

Wondering why they let their lives move so fast

I slow down time, staring at the piers

Watching the people, alone, with my fears

The rhythm of the highway doesn't match the passing tides

And the mountains seem a backdrop from yet another slide

Machines to make the city taller

Creating only unmasked squalor

Where seagulls perch to pick up trash

And homeless men sit and beg for cash

All this mixed with flowers and trees

Where the cityscape intertwines with the breeze

The ominous clouds are really mountains

The roads are filled with statues and fountains

The western tunnel was closed today

People in cars had to find another way

And as I sat on the pike watching them pass

I knew this feeling would never last