Last night she dreamed her mother was murdered
She realized it was not her mother that gave her unrest
as she woke again and again, alone in the bed
It was love that was dead
This town is small but she had a knack for finding hiding places
She found herself in exactly the place where she had begun
before this town knew her name, before her father had died
She dug around for that feeling that would make him alive
She knew he thought we would all live forever
in that impossible and reckless way
that killed him when he was much too young
Kills so many in the same way but saves some
It hurt to think this way, to make him a Jesus
to pretend that piety would make him return to her
He was a man who made her laugh and then broke her heart
She decided he was just a man with a broken heart
She couldn't cry
because her hiding place was out in the open
She would have cried
but nobody had died
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Consistently Inconsistent
I used to think bruises were pretty
but blood is better left in the vessels that carry it
We never deserved to see under our own skin
not in the way you captured it on film
We deserve
I deserve
You deserve
better than manufactured indifference
to War and Violence
Hey, Hey, Hey, Look at me
I'm not mad at anyone
I'm not mad at you
I like the way you pray
I can't even say that I believe in peace anymore
peace is the new villian
But I can say
that I don't believe in bloodshed
I know we are bleeding
But I would rather cry
than spill your blood
I would rather be poor
than empty your pockets
It scares me that the people that are pulling the trigger
are not holding the gun
It scares me that the people being shot
are paying for the gun
It scares me that I'm always talking about things
that I don't know about
but blood is better left in the vessels that carry it
We never deserved to see under our own skin
not in the way you captured it on film
We deserve
I deserve
You deserve
better than manufactured indifference
to War and Violence
Hey, Hey, Hey, Look at me
I'm not mad at anyone
I'm not mad at you
I like the way you pray
I can't even say that I believe in peace anymore
peace is the new villian
But I can say
that I don't believe in bloodshed
I know we are bleeding
But I would rather cry
than spill your blood
I would rather be poor
than empty your pockets
It scares me that the people that are pulling the trigger
are not holding the gun
It scares me that the people being shot
are paying for the gun
It scares me that I'm always talking about things
that I don't know about
Limbo
If I did what I wanted to do
I would go curl up in my car
and fall asleep
until I was supposed to wake up
and the day would go on as planned
but probably someone would find me there
and fine me there
for some kind of public atrocity
and I would be an embarrassment
again, I guess I can't do that
If I had more money
I would rent a hotel
and sleep in a made bed
but that would make me sad
because no one makes my bed for me
And believe it or not
I'm not one much for
escaping reality
Passing the time is not my forte
I'm much better at decorating it
I would go curl up in my car
and fall asleep
until I was supposed to wake up
and the day would go on as planned
but probably someone would find me there
and fine me there
for some kind of public atrocity
and I would be an embarrassment
again, I guess I can't do that
If I had more money
I would rent a hotel
and sleep in a made bed
but that would make me sad
because no one makes my bed for me
And believe it or not
I'm not one much for
escaping reality
Passing the time is not my forte
I'm much better at decorating it
Quote, End Guote
The problem with being a medium is
you don't know how far the middle is
from everything else
The problem with extremities is
you have to be one
to know one
The problem with balance is
everyone wants you on their side
and balance doesn't understand different sides
The problem with sides is
they're always opposing something
that's the beauty of balance
you don't know how far the middle is
from everything else
The problem with extremities is
you have to be one
to know one
The problem with balance is
everyone wants you on their side
and balance doesn't understand different sides
The problem with sides is
they're always opposing something
that's the beauty of balance
this is shit, reorganized
my whole night was this
one big build up towards
this
me shitting my pants
and then consoling myself
with the idea of running away
and the thin memory of
the smell of roses
I like the idea of humility
whatever was attached to this has broken away
most likely from persistent aggravation
or maybe it was curiosity
And my only question now is what is one without the other
I like when things change
suddenly
The most beautiful people grow up
The rest of us grow older
Sometimes you just have to forgive yourself for shitting yourself
or whatever else it is that you did that doesn't make any sense
one big build up towards
this
me shitting my pants
and then consoling myself
with the idea of running away
and the thin memory of
the smell of roses
I like the idea of humility
whatever was attached to this has broken away
most likely from persistent aggravation
or maybe it was curiosity
And my only question now is what is one without the other
I like when things change
suddenly
The most beautiful people grow up
The rest of us grow older
Sometimes you just have to forgive yourself for shitting yourself
or whatever else it is that you did that doesn't make any sense
Friday, November 4, 2011
Oh, Just Something
I don't know if you've noticed
(oh, I hope you noticed)
I haven't been writing as much
(oh, it must be obvious)
It's not that I don't have anything to say
(and surely I haven't said it all before)
It's just that I'm not so sure anymore
(but I'm still sure about us)
You see, my thoughts go 'round and 'round
(oh, and sideways and up and down)
You don't know what it's like to be me
(oh, I would die for this town)
You're every piece of every puzzle
(and all that's left is to put us all together)
You're that thing that makes us better
(but better still left underground)
(oh, I hope you noticed)
I haven't been writing as much
(oh, it must be obvious)
It's not that I don't have anything to say
(and surely I haven't said it all before)
It's just that I'm not so sure anymore
(but I'm still sure about us)
You see, my thoughts go 'round and 'round
(oh, and sideways and up and down)
You don't know what it's like to be me
(oh, I would die for this town)
You're every piece of every puzzle
(and all that's left is to put us all together)
You're that thing that makes us better
(but better still left underground)