New Year New Blog

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There Is A Whole Where Something Was

Stalemate eyed. I know you think of me as your ocean liner. Just because the Titanic sank doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still exist. I promise to resurface soon.

Blood loss from the head rush... meanwhile time has taken it's toll, and I'm all out of change. On the road again. Reconnecting with the places and faces that got me running in the first place. They've got sunshine in syringes. But I'm a vampire.

The stop signs on memory lane are covered in snow. Skull and cross bones the next time that we cross bones.

It's Not My (de)Fault

My smile left a bread crumb trail back to New York City. Here the only flights we take are down three flights of stairs.

Stormy weather in my head. I feel stapled to the starless sky and told to outshine the moon.

When they remind you that 'the worst is over now' they mean who you once were. White lies for a white Christmas.

The Last Time You Came Through

I need you and this city more than ever. The directors cut just wasn't deep enough so we will have to rewrite it all. NYC will be for angels and kings this week.

Such a happy mess. The invisible man staring back at the clubhouse mirror.

This isn't quite madness. It's clarity, but I may never live up to the hype or the hope. This holiday season is for brand new wishes on an unlucky clover.

Without You I'm Just Me

Cursed is the boy who didn't give up on the world when he first realized it would stop spinning. They gave up betting on me when they realized they weren't winning anyway. I have eyelashes longer than how far their faith lasted.

Speeding tickets down memory lane. Break free not hearts.

The great unknown clutching a map, a compass, and the feeling of direction in the wind. In love with the way that the air tastes a little more fresh when it's on the tip of my tongue. Behind my teeth I'm hiding the sound of applause fading into laughter.

Days have been adding up more like negative scores than X's on a calendar. Rolling my eyes instead of the dice. My DNA only spells out her name in a secret code anyway.

Phlegmatic

Laika was sent into orbit to die... allowed to disintegrate upon re-entry. 'You can't go back'... could be the saddest words ever spoken, and the hardest ever felt. Gotta get out of love and this town.

I remember staring down Park Ave at the rain heading our way from SoHo. I'd give anything to out run the storm with you again. The next time you're in the city listen to the way the whispers in every room sound like your name.

I've never been right for the lead role. Forever the favorable understudy. I am just the shiver in your pocket when his hands are on your thighs. I've lost the place where our bodies separate in my mind.

They say that all roads lead to Rome, but the empire has fallen. I guess we are all really going nowhere.

Dress Warm. Sleep Close.

A mix of snow and ice is falling back home. A bitter sweet distraction for the holidays. A perfect chance for silhouette smiles and portrait photographs.

Watched the world pass out at my finger tips. Now I stare at veins bleeding with apathy... counting on the wonder ahead.

What is love if you wouldn't drive through the night just to get back to it? Without you I am just another kid flickering out in the dark.

I still love everything about you that hurts, and the way that it is so warm at the bottom. You're like the songs I wish I heard first. I'm living for dreams that I can't quite remember, but I'll never forget missing you. Smile and lock it away.

On The Comeback

When I was young I was positive that I was from another planet. I felt as if I had been sent here from another world... only for some reason I had forgotten my mission. I had forgotten how to call home, only to realize that I was just as normal as the kids around me.

Now with the whole world at my feet I find myself at times struggling to find the right words to say. It feels the same. All of this just serves as a reminder to put home on speed dial.

Paradiso Perduto

The keyboard needs my fingers but I'm in need of these words a little more. Cutting days short because there are dreams that I need to have. Cutting nights short because there are days that I need to live.

Hallways and stair cases. Scenes for things to regret. It's way too late tonight to be locked inside myself. Lately free time becomes borrowed time.. becomes I don't have enough of it anyway.

There's a VIP line across my wrist to get into the club. A type of backstage pass to how this feels. A life where the girls wear venus fly trap smiles and the boys wring their necks out to dry. Sometimes a forewarning can become the halo over your head. But I'm more the pitchfork and red cape kind of guy. I'm a foul ball through the windshield of a parked car. Hit and run baby. Hit and run.

Rain Soaked Runways

When a poorly stitched heart bursts at the seams do you blame the designer or the recipient?

Some people use truth like Spackle. Just covering up holes in their stories to make them appear all the more original. I'd rather gut the whole place and start from scratch at times. This is one of them.

Those are just reasons rolling down your cheek sweetheart. Run with them. There has never been a better time to close your eyes, walk around in slow motion, and act like you own the place.

I Feel Like An All Night Drive

Your copy of Mencken's Chrestomathy has my muscles in knots. It's as if I'm a charlie horse... don't bet on me... but don't put me down. Let's always be the inside of outsiders.

We reconnected when our eyes matched the sky. Funny how we seem to fall apart at any other time. It's like the way that people forget that the romance in Paris can still be tragic, and that even Willy Loman died in vain.

I guess our heads are like traps more than anything else. A halo around your head, and you around my arms. I'm still a lonely circuit not even sure if I wanna be plugged back in. Blue veins admiring blue moods. Your fingers are hospital beds. A healing touch reversing a train wreck.

You're the world's first secret. The headline behind all the flashing lights making my head spin.

Oh What's That Lucy? A Football For Me To Kick?

A crescent moon in my southern most window. The time has moved from faster to slower in this "daylights saving." I'm no longer swimming across an ocean like it's the mattress in my basement. I've been stuffed with anxiety. Unleashed in the form of bad dreams. Maybe I'll just start a war for the taste of my own blood.

It's late, and I'm sweating out excuses that would only make your stomach turn. I'd give it all away to make mine do the same. Let's get even.

Just like water takes the shape of where it is held. I was always just a boy until someone yelled "let's get this Man to a hospital." In the haze of a car crash the orange airbag dust covers everything... except what has not been said.

The wolf in sheep's clothing is dancing, while all of the sheep are clapping. Save a kiss for a full moon. The end of the month will mean so much more than airwaves and holidays.

The Give Up Artist

All of the going back and forth between airports and heartbeats left him wishing for more than love one night at a time. He was so far from content, coming alive between her sheets and the pauses of breath.

The fog was thick but the tension never was. Making excuses instead of making moves was his home life then.

Dull and boring like the world he was slowly losing grasp of. Becoming another corpse in a funeral procession. He wanted to run a red light just to see the look on everyone else's face and erase their conclusions.

Sacre Bleu

Between curtains the sun shines like your eyes the night before I fell asleep. Right now the lights are out and so is ambition... while these lethargic wrinkles in the sheets keep me company. Thinking of the sunset from the suns point of view. I can not (sh)allow myself to do this anymore.

During the day all of the suns rays point to the art of keeping up disappearances... and autumn is a season full of scents and spells that keep us coming together. I really just want to spin every negative thing from this year around and make it spit out confetti for you. A parade for your encouragement. Love is forever, so get out while you can.

My eyes are a full moon and you are the wolf, making my pulse stream in reverse. I know you only loaned me your heart for the winter, but would you mind if I borrowed against it?

Nostos

In the middle of the night, when we've all become clocks with too much time on our hands my conscience is clean and in control. Taking deep breaths just to exhale looks and whispers. I feel like Isis, welcoming history back to life.

Lately I've been impressed with the way that a single voice can make a deafening sound. I have witnessed hearts that forget their place in their own chest. Beating without a purpose is just as bad as forgetting to. Breathing at the bottom of the lake beats screaming at the top of your lungs. I am your sick day.

First class before the take off and I swear I'm coming down alive. Let's skip town with nothing but this investment in ourselves. God bless rewind, not repeat... because I only want the best part. There are no connecting flights through Casablanca but it'll have to do. Take me back to any street car you desire. I still love you with eyes closed.

De(spite) All Efforts

The side of his house was painted gold with all of the promises that he had made to himself... and was peeling with the ones that he broke to others.

Her parents named her Hallelujah, but she made everyone call her Holly. Her blackened eyelashes were clogged with stories that her wrists were too torn to tell.

Atop the tragic drone of his words and the piano that he struggles with, she claims that this is not love. Frustrated, he stops long enough to remind her that this love is a dangerous habit, and that they should do their best to enjoy the challenge. Whether they choose to believe it or not, they are their own fix. Their bodies remain paused in their struggle to find love, while the world below moves on.

Days have passed as she wakes first with blurry morning eyes that just want somebody there. The dirt on the window seems to signify the way that the sun will never shine on their skin the same way again. You never really see the picture clearly until you're out of it. Life in the form of a Georges-Pierre Seurat masterpiece.

The vertical split in the curtains makes up for the lack of spine on his back. The stories he can't tell reveal themselves in the way he slurs and stutters excuses into the pillow. Whispers against ears that know better but perk up anyway. Her heart ticks like a makeshift time bomb. A quivering cache on the wavering justice scales. Is it enough, is it enough?

Manifest Destiny

Another show plays on the radio. Reminding me of the days that I felt so far away. When I was young and had no one to play the part of me, but I learned the hard way how to find myself. So what if it's why I'm here alone. I still heart me. Even if you think you're better off. Sad is the way that it's been so long... since I've been home, and lost a part of me.

Another show plays on... reminding me that those days are behind. Nobody knows. My stomach shrinks for their dollar signs. Insure me not. Pardon me. I guess my wealth will cover these sores. The mirror hates me now. I know you do to. Financial burden am I. That's all I ever was.

This world can spin like the truth. Hang a left and please turn right towards me. 30 years of age and 30 pounds less. Maybe we all grew up on a street that we never really lived on. I'm just the lonely boy that loves you and would love to share it all.

I've spent all of this time saying your names like a prayer, and still haven't been saved. Make it loud and make it count this time when you yell "I'm sorry."

Going Out The Hemingway

This is me putting it down on paper. Please pull the sheets over my head and tell the world I'm sleeping in. Mr Sandman can recite today's lesson in his sleep.

There is an opposite to deja vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time it feels like it's the first time. Everybody is a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.... except this definition.

This isn't learning from my mistakes anymore so much as it is damage control. There is no success quite like failure. Trust me. I can be a character witness. Tears could make canyons out of these cheeks.

I've been in a shy world lately, though there have been thoughts picking at my mind like it was a lock. Down but not found out.

Your smile is the only place that I feel completely normal in, and I swear at times I can see the big picture in the small of your back. Tattooed behind your ear, 2 stars... directions to foreverland.

Nelson Algren And The Stolen Typewriter

Her name was devastation, and when she was around it was always better to speak low if you were speaking of love. All of her old friends bled to death from the holes in there stories. And while their blood may have dried faster than the ink, the latter will always make a deeper impression.

Never regret your best intentions. Write them down late at night and sleepwalk through history with me. We are a story, slowly unfolding. When everything is a little out of line we'll make our move to escape. It's now or forever.

Lightening on thunder. Sleepless. Sometimes when the lights go out, so do the feelings that matter the most. I'm pretty sure that the night light was just invented to keep the conscience awake. I only want to exi(s)t.

Dear Charlotte, it's just not working out.

John Berryman Saved Mine And Took His Own

From the steps at St. Patrick's. Do you want me to tell it like boy meets girl, or do you want it like a murder mystery? I think I'm going to tell it like a comeback story.

The night that we connected I was expecting a classical arrangement, but her kisses were just white noise. She was the type that gathered gospel from gossip magazines and bar talk. Salvaging sermons from message boards and scene reports, she was always trying out new testaments on the guys sitting next to her in bars... with bars in their windows. I don't think she was ever aware that her grievances still showed when her soap box unfolded.

Lost in all of the lights, she connected with the clever kids. Knowing that it's too hard to feel holy when you can't even come clean... she came to in a confession booth.

With nobody around, she climbed the cross and found that she liked the view. So she put her mouth around a difficult question and asked the Lord what he recommended to a real sweet girl who has made some not so sweet friends.

I'm not sure what He told this soft girl in hard times, but I know that I'll always forgive her for forgetting how to sing the high notes. She speaks so much better in chorus anyway.

My Wonder Years Ring Like Thunder

Cutting ti(m)es. But not like wrists... more like the tension in the room. Keep falling asleep on everyone. This is where it all begins. The scars and the stories of it all. A firing squad of the nervous system.

Stay awake all night so your eyes blacken around like your insides feel. Not alive or dead.

My mind is(a sun)set. Allow me/these final words, to be your stepping stone.

Do You Suppose There's More To Life Out There?

Sweet fluorescent evenings fight the spaces between your arms and mine. We're on the edge of something new. You're laying with wide eyes closed tight tonight while I'm watching the mist rise from the lake underneath a patchwork sky. I'd like to say this is all new to me but the truth is that it's repetition. Cycle me something better than us.

I believe in your finger tips when they're spider webbing my shoulder. I'd love to show you Manhattan rooftops and water towers. The truth is, I don't even recognize the bloodshot eyes that stare back at me in the mirror lately. There is true contempt in these once broken eyes.

(l)earning your trust.

The Deep End Vs. Shallow Hearts

What if you peaked early? What if the clock was counting down towards who we all really are? The market place just might have failed. Now hang on to the truth as the rest of this brings us all back to zero. Cheat. Lie. Keep a calendar. "Oh darling I know what you're going through."

I've got a heart shaped like the United States. Dominican love around my wrist from NYC. Midwest shimmer from kindergarten finger paints.

Happy (pret)ending. There is more than life left in these lungs. Watch this...

Suite Heart

She goes to parties just to hook up with intimacy. She swears that love and accidents are the same after the sun goes down. Someone is under the blanket, and you can't remember their name.

Pull my heart over. Speed limit signs for ambition. Just hit the (heart)brake and call it even. You had me figured out from the first time we crashed. Because I think of you on the tip of my finger, and you twirl your hair with yours.

In her dreams God gives out second chances. So she stands at his front door like it's Halloween. Still angry at forever, yet grateful to the hitchhikers. To the people we stopped for. We'll use the stars as a blanket one last time tonight.

It's All A Pill From Here

The curse of Carolina... the world will tell you, I'm better with a ticket in hand.

Been wasting my time standing in corners of kitchens at every party wondering what the hell I was ever thinking.

We're all a gallery of broken hearts, so come on in and see us on display. A museum for the lonely. Hope the lights hit us just right so they can criticize, and form the correct opinion of what the artist was thinking when He created us.

They close their blinds to people dying. Imagine that.... these bullets I'm swallowing are you.

Buffalo... This Country Was Built On Their Backs

She has a nicotine palette and I'm more than sure that she has broken the rules playing Russian roulette a time or two. She is subtle happiness for the down and out generation. I think I'm her blood type and I'm currently trying to convince her to swap veins.

My hands live on the outskirts. There is something about her in all black, and the way her skin sleeps under it. Lightning in my head for the world to see. I'm chasing the greatest story (n)ever told. Watching moments flicker behind my eyelids, as I twitch throughout the evening.

Each glimpse of you vanishes in mid-air... right in front of me as I struggle to wake. I will forever be love... after the fact. I can't wait to be epic with you.

L'esprit De L'escalier

Her smile makes me feel like I've been holding back. The summer sends her love, as you realize life is nothing more than a countdown and that these words are bullets... your last shots at redemption.
Tonight I walk through an empty street with my shadow stretched out in front of me.

This is where my lonely thoughts meet my lonely feet, and the cold reminds me that I've chosen this life. I spoke to all of my molecules and they were divided, but of this they were sure... death is just the exit ramp to something better. So become an heir to misfortune with me.

Miss Tragedy blows kisses to the rhythm of the rain. This arrangement of words will do nothing but set my mind at ease.

I am the drunken poet. Spilling verses on the airport bar. Flying home to emptiness.

Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Five minutes late for every disappointment. A speck at the bottom of the East River vs. the spark in her Dominican eyes. Sometimes it feels like cords of electricity make up the veins in our bodies. My in-vital organs are bored without her.

Longing to rewind and record those endless nights and sunrise surprises. Heads on chests. Listening for secrets, or a heart to beat your name.

PackingBagsAndChasingFlights

Capgras Delusion

Far too unstable, but I have friends and airlines to pull me through. The moon is more than paper just pasted to the sky tonight. Let's play boys chase girls across these autumn skies.

Please ignore the failure lights that are glowing all around. Me and you... just like always. Lit like leading actors once again. Bright lights highlighting jaw lines. I swear I'm exploding too slowly for anyone to notice, but I'm getting better with every regret that I allow.

My moods are shape shifting. They're magnets to a compass. Leaving the arrow spinning if it gets too close.

Don't Open That Thought

On her pillow case she whispers secrets that only heaven could hear, but they'll never listen. Under her sheets the bruises and scars tell a story, but no one will ever read it. Her eyes are the window to the world she's never known, but she hopes to find it soon.

The space of void in her rib cage is where the butterflies once took shelter, but they've since flown away. Its winter all summer long, and everything dies when its cold, including you.

I find myself flipping through the pages of her heart trying to recapture a literal bookmark of my last smile. Next time I'm feeling complete remind me to dog ear the moment so I can return to it at will.

Warn the conductor to take it easy on the tracks and to hold it steady. This will forever be a Cinderella story. Only at the strike of midnight we all turn back into devils and angels, seeking our weight in gold. Risk your life for their love.

It feels so good here under the gun though... knowing that this is where you're saved. Set the lamp just right to throw my shadow on the wall. Trace it one last time to remember how this looks.

They say that those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it... but what if I was happier in the past. What if we are cursed with the inability to forget how much happier things once were? Condemn me to who I once was and we'll call it even before my face hits the floor.

An Equinox Escapade

It was never the way she looked in my eyes. It was when she didn't. New promises, not hearts. Cash in your secrets and 'come home to me.'

Brought together by the incessant need to protect these engines in our chests. Neither of us will stray too far, or be gone too long from the other. We're the sun and the earth.

Striped socks and punk rock PJ's. 7th Avenue sweethearts. Doorways and windows. I'm not sure which way to leave this room.

Frustrate Temptation

Tell your secrets to strangers so they're out there. Give a dollar to the homeless and sleep tight. We're just over-rated boys and attention starved girls making this world go round. Failed attempts to feel anything. Aren't we all so ready and willing to live? Speak up to your easy way out, as a funeral with wedding bells awaits you.

In my hands, good fortune. In my ears, the sound of guilt. Take what you can, it's never even. At least while we lay still. Fall out of sleep, and back in love with the world around you.

Back And West 4th Forever

The palms that sweat in bars are the same ones that fall in love on the corners outside of them. Your glow versus the moonlight. I'm in love with what you're thinking of.

Staring at dirty fingernails. I'm overcome with the idea of bubble wrapping my past and sending it away. No return address. It's just self against city. Soon time will turn and tell. Distance is/as a collision.

Two smiles in a picture booth to set me back in motion. It's all over myself vs. over my head. Graveyard shift love. No one can really captivate me with words like you do. Lights off, worry off.

Yours Mine And Hours

Baby grins shining like the light on a baby grand. I'm the fingers and you're the keys. (Ch)armed to the teeth. A faceless kiss, like a front door standing from a house fire. I'll take the blame if you'll take me home now. I'm the Valentine you kept from that box in 4th grade. The roof of my mouth is sorry and riddled with abrasions towards you.

Sealed the envelope tops on your collar bones. Your fingers felt like transit lines being followed on my back. Get under my skin in the best way and in my veins like a pill.

I miss the way we bled. Time in the form of lines on my forehead represent my time waiting for this.

Sleepless In Seeking

Driving so fast that the view fell apart. In my mind you are a before and after photo. I'm not sure how I lived without you. I just want to disguise myself as a sleeping pill and descend inside of you.

I’m not one for missed adventures, and I won’t cry if you can’t love me like the way it used to feel. Whatever it is you need, I just pray that I am. I only want to spend the evenings in your dark cotton sheets.

With her shoes in her hands, I watched her dance. The hem of her dress gently kissed the concrete. The skies were painted film noir, and were burning holes in our pupils. We were the veins of the avenue on a New York night.

She lies beside me. Her eyelashes look like crawling caterpillars as the deep sleep rushes around inside her sockets. The side effects are mixed up thoughts and falling in love for this mixed up girl.

To open, just push and turn. To close, just get too close.

Chiseled Out Of Stone

Dear Atlantic afternoon, why won’t you take me away? These small town hearts have been brought down. Be my crescent moon tonight and shine down on my face.

Hometown clouds and a sad dialogue. This is the feeling of letting go. I want to dry their damp eyes and blend up that rainbow above. I want to shoot it through their veins.

Designer Hugs

Woke up buried in your blankets, as if I had been left for dead. Pushed my luck to remind it of ownership... until it finally fought back. I'll be skipping cracks in the pavement for the rest of the day.

We illuminated the just-past-midnight alleys and streets with dreams last night. Moonlit but sun driven, I stole your arm in your sleep and just drew half of a heart and scribbled "call me later." I know you will.

I wish your mind was as worn as my own this morning. Windows and door ways. I'm not sure which way to leave this room. After all, we're living in a world where heaven and hell are only synonyms for the location of our heads.

Called your bluff and left a voicemail. Put on my raincoat because it looks like it just might today. Tattoo that bruise and purge your exhausted throat from 'I love yous'.... Let's always be thieves with legs crossed, tongues tied, and eyes for nice things.

MyLittleOneAndPocketTheBuffalo

Lake Effect Kids

Boomeranged back to the corner of romance... yet I still insist on keeping the coroner on speed dial. Friends that aren't dying are already dead, and getting older just makes it harder to remember our bonds. We are only saviors in our youth.

One drop of blood, and an immaculate kiss. Sing-along songs will be our scriptures as we tuck ourselves in tonight. Boxed blonde's have less fun.

The hardest part of all of this is that my thoughts are double timing the keypad. A 21st century defeat. Pen and pad less. I'm ill equipped for these high noon showdowns with myself.

8th Ave at Jane Street. The way the ice in the cooler behind the bar shifts reminds me that the city is still alive below us, as the subway completes a round. One heart breaker lite with a shot of sadness.

She cuts me open without effort, while I trace "what could have beens" around her name. How did tonight become the enemy when we never even meant to show up in the first place? Take my hand and we will run away. Put your hands up on the stereo. Guilt is up to the speakers from hear on out.

A Scrapbook Honeymoon

Clumsy hearted souls only find themselves light headed in your presence. The flick of a lighter. The underscore of your forgiveness. No one can take you to hell but yourself.

Keeping it "need to know" for her aesthetic lips, while stashing backpacks across the city. Giving in or giving out. Save the world or lose the girl. Either way she will remain underneath your ribs, promoting love.

Put loneliness on hiatus and return to Hell Gate Bridge with me.

This Dexedrine Fix

Popping champagne in place of summer downpours that we never caught a glimpse of. We were way too busy punching time cards in this NYC romance. Clocking in and out of love. When it comes to hearts, take one home or take one for the team. At least these amphetamine veins are working again.

The ceiling fan kicks the candle flame in its midsection. Bending, but not breaking. And while the bright light fights through the space it creates, I pray that your hand will forever be in my back pocket. Promise to lace your fingers with my broken bones. It won't hurt half as much as it should. Separate the numbers inside these veins and let the record skip to your voice.

Monotone weekend. Lip locking in stereo.

289Bleecker double-captain-coke-no-lime-no-straw

This Nuclear Summer

The edge of town was stained in gold... so she took flight minus parachutes and airbags, and began chasing pavement. Full of bright eyed stories of Dylan going electric, she wears a raven on her back... and is a constant reminder that this life will always be a matador.

Stayed up late reading into my past... sleeping through the afternoon and missed calls. The dark of night is here to greet me at my window. I wake up and let it in. Tears have been sliding on their own. In and out of somnia.

They say loneliness is something you create and destroy in your own head. So I'm banging mine against these walls just to watch the ideas flow out. Hanging onto last calls and long distance fevers.

Shyness-like chloroform. Everything is slowing down now. The last to leave is the last alive. I watch as they all dance to the sounds of the bombs crashing in the street.

(Im)pressed Between The Pages

Hands-free, overnight travel. When will they develop a remedy for this addiction? Manhattan nights and mornings in Astoria.

I've never seen glitter shine so see-through as much as the look in your eyes. Especially when they're leading towards your bedroom. Ovation for the silent show we've played although the noise in those deep brown eyes could have condemned the neighborhood. It must make them sad to know of all the love behind these walls.

I've been tainted by all of the magnificent colors that surround your smile. Here's to hands held under a never ending sky of "I wonder whys".

Without you, these pills take me better than I do them.

Light A Match To Leave Me Be

Nobody ever tells about the one that got away. So I'm flying to the city that knows me by name and all of the bad things that I do. Busted lips resurface with cold hearts so be prepared for Monday morning. In the meantime realize that Summer is on her last leg, and that you're sleeping with a fan on high.

My NYC princess. I've come so far to be with you. Focused on empty stomachs from Botin's in Madrid. I hope the food is half as good as you and Hemingway have promised.

The night is filled with lightning... yet there isn't any precipitation. Like my eyes are supposed to provide the downfall. To fill this lake and call it even. Droughts are just heavens own doubts. Not for my shoulders to carry. This thunder can't keep me from taking off. She's the only one that speaks with a gentle voice.

Writing Love Notes On Prescription Pads

She often lights a cigarette to avoid worse habits, between the numbness and a faint idea of what it was to cry or smile. Her eyes are my escape route.

She likes waiting until the hot water runs out so she can lean her shoulders back against the cool, tile wall. I want to ask her to fit me inside her book bag, because I'm just dying to crawl out and scratch the insides of her veins.

We are sunny side up and full of urban smiles this morning. Maybe this capsule filled arrogance will carry me through the day.

She's sound asleep as I punch away with fingertips to the keyboard. Covered up, but not well kept. These are the secrets we sleep on... the ones that will send us all to hell.

Love Is A Duel

All of these words sometimes feel like intimacy without the proximity... when all that I really want is to feel the weight of your hands inside mine.

The moon sits high and full tonight, echoing the rhythm of my lonely city feet. My heart sits low within its cage and is wishing for a pen and paper.

Found a candle in the street and bummed a light. I've been burning it for you.

Old Friends and "Play It Agains"

Waking up inside a flask. Mornings are only cold showers for my dreams. Wide awake is always someone else's.

I collect hotel room keys and airline tickets stubs. All from the places that I've missed you in. Nobody toasts to normal days. I'll be there soon to correct this. Until then, vote me the boy most likely to match your beats per minute.

It's Schadenfreude

Love is (d)anger(ous) on many levels. So I invited nervousness over for a few drinks, got it drunk, and took its life. Besides, it's not like it will be missed. Her heart was just a mailbox and was wasting too much of my hard earned cash on stamps anyway.

Cut to Sheridan Square - where Raindrop kisses had me listening to the traffic passing us by, all the while leading me to the realization that although I'm still eighteen in the heart... I'm not in the bones.

Her kisses tasted like dark parking lots and bright headlights, and with every tilt of our heads we we're writing a story. This will forever be summertime in New York City.

It's Worth The Sting

Anywhere is away from me. Drama sat shot gun as my eyes rained like mid-Autumn on the plane ride back to NC.

I have yet another plane ticket for the morning to fix it all. These are all just automatic love letters to how it is supposed to be.

I'll tell you it's for my t-shirt, but we both know I'm coming back for more. Your make-up smeared eyes let me know we felt the same when the door closed.

BleeckerAnd7thAndYouAndMe

From Room 1440, Waldorf Astoria NYC

She smirks on the uptown 4 train, Bronx bound. Reading all the while. 168th street princess. This is my open road.

Crazy eyed lost soul. I am you. Sometimes all that you need to do to feel alive is squeeze yourself between closing subway doors. Aggressively seeking your destination, even if it is just the next stop.

Stringing thoughts, hanging by a thread to these streets. A puppet waiting for repairs.

Call in sick with your teeth pressed to the intercom. Like tongues to razor blades. Let's set the night on fire one last time. Let's make memories and mistakes in these tattered sheets. Let's be the glistening in the eyes of catastrophe.

Washing Off In Wishing Wells

Night-lights are just the eyes that a mother leaves behind her to guard her children... especially the ones who know that to live would be an awfully big adventure.

Breathe in faith and hope, and this smoke filled bar. Cash in all of the glory from your biggest mistakes and give it all away. Laugh out loud while the tears flow and realize that this is just a little heartache. It's just a little hole.

Geneva to NYC to better. Stateside reunions. Plug the black light rosary back in. Somebody's flying to save me.

WendyMoiraAngelaDarling

In Why See

NYC bound. Gotham at its peak. 1st class arrangements and family are my new favorite things to collect.

I'm like a wave retracting from the shore. Moving on. Life got in the middle of every intention. Playing games of asphyxiation with my best regrets. Getting drunk on adrenaline.

You're the best friend that I've found. You'd rather spend the night than the money. A shake of the head from hell and another kiss from the alter.

Fairbanks Bus #142

Some men just want to watch the world burn. I'd rather light it up with wondrous amounts of imagination and hope like Christopher McCandless did.

Lately I feel like the gunslinger that refused to pull the trigger. 12 paces. Turning around and waiting for it all to warm my chest again.

My hands don't shake like they used to. Licking wounds and building confidence out of thin air whispered from your mouth.

12204 Cedar

I've made a habit out of staring down the sunrise. Just another Capricorn that became a Cancer they couldn't stomach.

I'm in a relationship with 20 milligrams per 24. I can't open my eyes or roll out of bed without help, and there is no other solution. Save your accusations and interpretations for everyone else. This is not "woe is me", it's "let me be."

Trips to the lower east side to collect rings and smiles. Greenwich to Bleecker to meet old friends.

Skipping school to make sense of his gunshots. At least we're breathing and free. I know you're all right.

OnlyKissesOnTheCheekFromNowOn

Suprise Sunrises

I leave voicemails as chapters for the only one that can make sense of it all. An S.O.S. to all that I have left.

I'm not sure why I fight daylight at times... and sunset at others. 3 ups and 3 downs. It's on the 7th that I look myself in the mirror. Do the math with me. It lets me know that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. Sunday or someday. These are my seven days of the week. Lose a syllable or two and sorrow becomes tomorrow.

She's a diamond and doesn't even know it. I heart her via billboards in Times Square.

Hot New York Nights

Do you remember?.... Killing the radio as we hit the Holland Tunnel? Seeing fireworks rain off of East 10th. Our NYC skyline filled with blasts of color and hope and everything we'd need to feel the moment...

Point and click lists for fun. Assigning points for the extravagant, and posting pictures to doors of our old haunts... in hopes that they'll return.

We stickered everything from Union Square beyond on the way to Crocodile Lounge. Last minute bleacher seats and hot dogs at Yankee Stadium. Pennies on every corner because we knew we weren't alone.

We know the best lobby's, bars, and ways to stay cool. Hunting Buffalo and purse's amongst the millions.

I heart the way you let me stay until the very last minute, and the way that you know what it all means to me.

Room 1559 Pennsylvania Hotel, NYC

Found inspiration on the back burner and apologized to myself. I guess lately this life has been composed of things that this heart is breaking to say, and that this head is aching to stop coming out. So gentle is the way that these lips will bruise.

I've covered this country in the last few weeks. Lost and found is how I'm breathing. Home is always my final destination and I just returned.

Woke up on the b-side of the bed. It's weird when your gut just gives up the flight-or-fight mechanism. When your brain is on overdrive to remember every moment of the ride.

Thoroughly Bred

If you stand too close to a painting the only thing that you will see is patches of color... stand too far away and you won't be able to see the detail. Right now this is my particular perspective on us. I let you stand a little too close... and we all know that when their families are involved our hands are tied...

Night time makes me feel like I'm in the world, but not of it... like I'm the patron with his back to you in Edward Hopper's "Nighthawks."

These are just a few things from my head, where tonight it's cold and damp. I can't fully lose my mind until Clandestine makes a straight jacket. Armor has become the new black. Wait for it...

Exit The Quitters

Cut me loose like a parachute tandem. Fall towards home one second at a time. Co2 backups and a breathing apparatus. I'd choke you with both just to hit the ground true. Call the paramedics. They'll recognize the fracture line, and finally someone will ask how bad the pain is.

They'll study my heart up and down and tell you that they've never seen one quite this bad. If you want they'll offer to wrap it for you. All the while warning that a splint won’t stick, that a cast won’t remain, and that a band-aid will come unglued.

The only way to heal your own heart you'll find is to keep loving until one loves you back. Until then, write down every single way you loved the one that you thought you knew... love yourself in that same way.

Call it even or call it quits. You're such an assurance closer. You've got a sweet tooth for revenge and I can only hope that it pulls your jawline back. Handshakes are just clasped high fives, like the difference between I care and I'm not really interested. Either way, it's such an awkward disposition for us.

Sweet Valium High

Love is just a reaction to soft skin and the look in her eyes when she told me she'd follow me anywhere. Love is her hand reaching for me and I feel myself falling from grace. Falling from everything I know. She was there to pick me up and put the smile back on my face and set my confidence in motion. Love is the phone call she made from her sisters wedding to let me know she caught the bouquet. Love is me telling her it might not have been an accident.

Right now I'm only dreaming of becoming her winning lottery ticket, or the moment before she comes up for air. Her rescue. I heart the way her eyes still scream "childhood."

On a good night baby, I'm just a prize fighter... but some nights I speak slowly so I don't slur, and just maybe you won't suspect I'm hazy. My eyes push backward into my head looking for whatever thought that I might have left, all in hopes of finding the right words to say.

She saved me from becoming a (p)harm(aceutical)ful wreck.

Her granddaddy used to say that soul shine is better than sunshine, and for that we stay up until the sun comes up.

(Be)li(e)ve Every Word

A thumbnail moon dips towards the west, as I realize that my compass is aligned towards somewhere amazing. The bones I used to wear are now just fossils or fractures. X-rays for your future reference or dismissal. I've become an island so bury your treasure within me. Just promise you won't tell me that the sky is the limit when I know that there are footprints on the moon.

Never explaining only explains never wanting to believe. I never once left them hanging. Full circle. A black eye on the inside. That's how I feel about it. Two steps forward towards make believe. I've learned to save my strength for the morning after.

For as bad-ass and unaffected as we all try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears... if only it was worded right. I'm ok with that. Are you?

From room 904 - Rock N' Roll Hyatt - Sunset Strip

Hollywood and Vice. Where I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive. Red carpet affairs for the MTV generation.

MIA vs LA vs it all. They all read/bleed like an itenirary.

Rock bottom wasn't that bad... for me. We'll all have our chance. This thick skin protected my fall from grace. Now who's next? I know the way to make their makeup run.

Beyond blessed is how I'm feeling. Fell right into this coast. Molotov rock tales to follow!

Notes From (LA)TL

I told her that she tries too hard. She responded by telling me that I tried too soft. Girls like that will have you drowning in inevitable silence, like a bathing beauty worth wading for. Her lips looked like a pair of wrists that had never been slit. They'd make you lose your balance and fall like rain just like I did that night.

There is so much humor to be found in the tragic disbelief of "only human." We're all just slapstick hearts playing to an empty room.

Sunday Boring Sunday

I wish there was a quick way to drain every idea out of my head and into a spine. I am more impatient with myself than anyone else could ever be. Got tired of waiting on the ambulance so I picked myself up and dressed the wounds with my own two shaking hands. I find I'm healing at a much faster rate than I ever anticipated... although I have to admit your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder back then.

I'm not sure what this means but tonight I think I'm falling asleep with a smile on my face. Maybe I'm too tired to feel anything but what the sleeping pill wants me to. Things are falling into place again.

I'm Something Else

I only miss you between the breaths... and my lungs haven't been that active lately. My heart has been unloading itself on my mind. When I do sleep, it's filled with visions of being imprisoned without being sentenced. Old West convictions in the form of heartbeats. I can't wait for sundown.

In the end, we all want something else. I'm on trial for words that aren't my own.... a motivation proclamation. My one last wish is to share this summer that I never took for granted... please grant it.

My heart has been beating out morse code because it knows that you aren't too hard headed to listen.

Shooting Stars Are Not Enough

Carolina nights have me thinking of us as an undeveloped strip of film to the light. Above my head. Squinted eyes can't even make sense of it all. Maybe we were just false exposure. Whatever we call it, it has me craving the light. Let's develop.

Thoughts of us are like words on pages that are too complicated to commit to memory. I'll make photocopies of them and swallow them in shreds. This may be the closest that we'll ever get. Catch my eyes through the lens. They don't shatter like they used to.

You're playing hang-man with my head, and tic-tac-toe with my heart. There's something disappointing about the silence.

I swore that I would only change in front of your eyes, now you do the same.

Florence Nightingale and nurses throughout history, fell in love with those who they were protecting and curing. They dreamt big, yet woke up everyday with the same pain.

Maybe God really is just a comedian, playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.

There are over a million mysteries that fingertips are dying to solve. From her collarbone, to her flat stomach, to her right hipbone.

Love reacts much like roman candles. A crash test tummy beneath the television glare.

Soft Whispers For Bottom Lip Kisses

I have rocket ship dreams, and backyard wishes for something bigger and better. Dreams the size of the moon.

Finally back. For awhile I forgot that this is real. Yet these feelings have been felt before. When my soul left my body, I'm certain that I looked back at you just to make sure you were okay. You'd never do the same. Your eyes haven't closed, its your heart that's fallen asleep.

Through all the nightmares and anxiety scares, you were my super glue.

I miss the way that you smile like you just remembered something you forgot.

Dear World, Please Make Me Not So Alone

I keep confusing courage with false hope. I've been so hesitant in my ways, as if i was cupids last arrow.

Feeling better as the coasts unfold. Jet setting in an attempt to find my former self... or just one set of honest eyes.

Tokyo has me nearly a day ahead. It's like flying upon second hands, back home just to live/sleep through the same 24. The lights still flash at the same rate though. The way I hoped our heartbeats would someday.

The irony is in the way the truth is lost in the translation. Somehow I know that the phrase "shoot the messenger" runs so much deeper than the semantics. Foriegn eyes lead me home. So appropriate.

Crossing the international date line can drive you to madness. For the record, I am as sorry as I have ever been. The words don't even flow the same lately. Boarding time...

86 My Trust

Mix tapes in the form of graphics. The city lights call to remind me that I'm still alive. At least on the outside. So flick them on and off at will. I'm still searching for pedestrian crossings in the middle of the park. Hopping cabs across the skyline. Don't forget (the/to) change.

To be honest, sometimes I hate consistency. I live my life in the form of notes and scribbles on the back of hands and sides of fingers. Swear to stop falling in love, or whatever they call it... besides, liars turn me on. Just know that I'm not shy... I'm just quiet with confidence.

The night slides in like love notes under broken heartbeats.

I bleed with smiles and solitary 'should do's. Fingers pressed to eyelids; I'm lingering. Heads spin under imaginary gazes of nonexistent opportunities. Leaving fingerprints against your cheek again.

Sober enough to remember how this felt years before our eyes met. One plus one makes none. Two plus two makes through.

Propranolol Lover

Cigarettes are like friends, for the right price you can buy them in packs and then burn them... but she's different. She takes a drag off of a lonely cigarette and I realize that my fascination with life begins and ends on her lips.

Ash Grey clouds blocking the sky, ensuring that God won't see my thoughts. The ultimate peeping tom. The calls of vultures are cloaked as sparrows and mockingbirds. I can tell the difference.

When was the last time you held someones hand and examined every scar and detail, as you etched it into your memory? Let's use these fingertips to write secret messages for each other into the sand, and wait for the tide to erase them. Meeting you was like busting out of jail.

Every time I walk away from you the color stays behind. Here's to a Summer in high contrast. Where fresh lips become transparent "I love yous".

Somewhere in between the hell that has become the souls of my feet, and the pure heaven that's the arch of my mind, is the purgatory of our hips.

Grenade Jumpers

Calls being placed behind my back for an exorcist, because nobody is used to seeing this much spirit in me. I've never needed more than my middle finger, but now I use two just in case. Laid it all out under evening skies. Time to start dancing between, and dodging bull(sh)its.

2 in a million. Me and you. The truth is going to find them all as we watch from afar. Its almost like walking in slow motion away from an explosion, and not even flinching.

Here's to the unforeseen.

Uptown Girls

Love letters from pens with no ink... and I'm left reading scratches on the table.

Whispers are so much louder in the dark. So break bulbs with me babe. We're bright enough to blind them all.

Her eyes have been rubbed red and her heart is between extremes. Meanwhile I'm making amends with the postman because I'm getting the vibe she might be worth writing home about.

Everything behind my eyelids is a machine that only moves for her.

The crossing guard should be here soon. Let's hold hands until then.

"Drawn Towards The Ones That Never Yawn"

Reconnected and patched up some things with a good friend today. Sometimes the most improbable event can be the needle. If you just allow yourself to be the thread, you can stitch up any wound. It's good to be back in the cave with the rest of the bats. Hearts like ours are the "break in case of sensitivity" type. The glass is merely for decoration, but it stings just the same when broken. The yellow rose of Texas in a pretty white dress!

I'm ready to shine like we used to.

Yawns Echo In Empty Rooms And Empty Heads

Honesty is the most common form of death.. at least when our souls are concerned. Every single hero was alone until they finally made a name for themselves. Let us all be so fortunate.

No one cares about the construction of the building. It's all about how tall it stands at the end. Just the final product. Sometimes letting someone go can be like gaining a clear view of reality... Sometimes you just have to raise the blinds... and sometimes the blinds are your own eyelids. Obstructing what's real is nothing new. It's so much easier to look away.

Some see it as having no hand to hold at all. Most need to learn that it's no hand to hold you down... or back.

I carry creativity within that can't be squeezed like a sponge. It's more like waiting for a volcano to erupt. My dormant periods teach me so much about my surroundings. Don't confuse me for a facade. I will never be a skyline you can depend on. There is so much more boiling within that is beyond explanation. The real me is lava laced with creativity. I can't control the bursts, I just want to be on your side when the wind catches.

VesuviusVs.Pompeii

The Whisper War

The streets are wet and slick but these thoughts are steady. Her kiss could seal the deal but her smile is the magnet.

I can hear it in your voice, you care. I'd do anything to put out the lantern if you could still find your own way back home.

For the first time in my life I didn't answer when NY called.

When The Income Is Better Than The Outcome

Notes from West Palm...

Born and raised in captivity. Every moment documented. I heart my cage.

Silly boy, when will you realize that she is just the steam that is laughing at you on the window panes. Bonfires storm your head and criminals line your veins... like no one even notices. But you do.

There's not a single soul thinking of you the way that I am at this very moment. It's really all about who you become in the middle of the night, be it the deepest of sleep, or blurry eyed and stumbling.

Loose lips sink ships. I've stockpiled more than a few torpedoes in my chest for you... so let's take out the entire fleet with how we really feel.

Play Me Out Of Tune, I'll Still Catch Their Ears

Runway bound. Playing catch up with my childhood and all that feels right. There's something about Palm Beach that separates me from all of this... in the most positive of ways. Sometimes I'm more than sure that heaven will feel the same as I felt with my best friend there in Old Port Cove. I'm living just to get back to my best friends.

Meanwhile, Carolina eyes leave me with a smile that burns without her near. So I tied my hands together just to bring her back safely.Trading coasts for the holidays, and maybe hearts upon return. Everything about me right now ends up in "now whats?" The truth is, I worry about her more than myself.

"Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss." -Joan Didion

Cozumel

I didn't mean the words I said because I knew your were listening. Good luck charms in the form of heartbeats. The sun is our guide, we are the stars.

Just by nudging my shoulder, you know what I'm thinking. Had been coming up empty, but I know what to do now. Let's ride in sidecars set for a collision. 2 to 1. I bet we come up winners. We stayed up and closed them down tonight.

Notes From Key West

I'm constantly halved in two. You are swirling through my stomach and spinning in dresses tonight... like a song that builds to shake you alive. You deserve so much more.

We are all gamblers. Through the air between us I see flashes of self control, but my heart's fallen asleep in my throat again. I'll give you four stars when you're awake and three words when you're asleep.

Room 1067, Ocean Life

First day at sea and I've already found an old friend in the middle of the Atlantic tonight. Perspective is more than obsolete at this point. Inherit me. Someone make a copy of my key to unlock this mess later.

Appropriately under dressed and alone. I just want to see you smile one more time before I close my eyes. I'm afraid of never waking up. Just keep me busy beyond my heart.

I have been time framed, but please don't change. I just want this to be normal. Shaking hands hold what's left in place. I'm more embarrassed than you are by myself.

I can't even keep these feelings down. Swallowing every last hope, and throwing everything but my hands up.

"The songs you grow to like, never stick at first. I'm writing you a chorus."

Sometimes the best lines are written for you, not by you. I'm humbled by each and every second that we've spent.

Somewhere In Alabama

Red velvet draped over a city that doesn't shine anymore. Fleeing town via the black highways. Hanging "do not disturbs" against every single mile marker.

My hands shake on their own. Just another failed attempt to shake it off. Every get well card has been marked return to sender. Split second thoughts of madness.

Drop them off and come back tomorrow is what they'll say. It's all a plot to give the masterminds behind counters and desks time to develop fiction inside a vile. Lately I only feel safe beside windows because the walls have lost my trust.

I think I'm ready...

These Words Are Terrible... At Best

Forever searching for the right combination of words to construct the pyramids of goose bumps on your arms, and the back of your neck.

She says "There is magic in your words." I say "I don't believe in magic, so your analogy is spot on."

She picks me up. We hit up Main Street of a ghost town. Counting on each other, instead of counting sheep. Dodging sidewalks, stomping through back alleys. Exchanging an embrace, I only see her shoulder blades. They carve the shade of every single mood that runs through my veins.

Flash forward to an unmade bed. Each blade spins on the box fan, almost independently. Clearly airing out our dirty laundry.

I'd write the rest if it didn't begin with "regret." I'm waiting on another.

WizardOfCause

From Wrinkled Post-Its Found In My Pockets This AM

Sleeping with a curse, it's how I walk through life. Tired of forgetting it all, but memory follows hope right now. I only wake up with thoughts of this ending up in your arms.

Narcolepsy has me watching reruns of myself night after night. Do you know what it's like to offer nothing and expect everything in return? To tilt your head just right, to appear humble? If we pick up the pace we might make the morning edition... because everybody likes to read the bad news.

They've tapped the lines to our reality so be very careful what you say. Speak in code about heartbeats and sleepy eyed women.

Autographs only teach you how to counterfeit signatures on prescriptions. This head is a junk yard for rusted thoughts... a thunderstorm with lightning so bright you cover your eyes.

Wrecking Homes With Hearts Of Gold

I refuse to duck from the wind. I'm all for chapped lips and honesty these days. Car crash hearts are the new romantics. Consider this a driving lesson for lovers.

My Breitling doesn't shine on my wrist the way your hands do. Hold me down one more time. Tonight I'll whisper to my ceiling, all the plans I've made. I gave up on coins in fountains. I've taken up the art of sinking dollar bills.

Even Max experienced loneliness after becoming king of the Wild Things. You have a smile that's made for pictures. Come back to life and let's head West towards carpets of red.

Second Star To The Right ... "2*R"

I'm stuck between me and this entire loss of sleep.. over you.

At the end of the day, underneath all the pretty words and dressed up sentences, I just want a destination for flowers.

Update from the land of sleep. I'm in love with an ever changing world where she makes me feel inside out. Staring into eyes much brighter than my own, wishing to kiss lips that are sure to make me dizzy. Chasing a new drug that's laced with similar DNA. One day we won't have to miss each other, or conveniently avoid the heartbeats.

The entire world seems calm when we are both sleepy... yet wide-eyed. I love it when we lock hands in this piece of shit town.

Our eyes have aligned for Spring. Sun against our backs. Let's sleep under the moon... I promise we'll wake up with a pocket full of stars.

Meet Me At The Barricade

She's the paper and I'm the pen. Some things are meant to be kept off line. Under the covers and shielded from prying eyes. Real and concealed. Tip-toe through this riot in my chest.

Laughing in the back of chauffeured cars. Baby faced saints monogrammed in silver. I dream of lives we could have had before.

I'm the curse on your girlfriends hips. Lost between letting it show and holding back. Stay out of my inbox. I'll forward you away next time.

IllBeYourDiamondRing

Disasters Degree

It's like a long walk down a dark corridor with you and me. Roman candle hearts lighting the way.

The difference between a vision and a hallucination is only whose offering the diagnosis. That's how I feel about us. Either way, your eyes caught a glimpse of what we really are.

Follow your fingertips along a chain linked fence until they get numb. You're locked inside your own heart shaped box... while I'm losing thought. I have a scar along my spine, as if someone tried to steal my backbone, but I'll stand up for this.

HeartsAndCrafts

Cupid With A Shotgun

The hardest part about you and me is that I know someday I'm gonna break away from this heartbeat. The sadness is the only thing left of you.

Freedom is a word that brings consequence, and missing you keeps me in control. A rainy night could bring it all back. I'll shed my skin into the wind today if you'll write your name and put it on my cast. Just make sure the ink is permanent.

Where there is love there is war. Another casualty is in my head, and it just needs your shoulder.

MakeASmileForMe

Open Ended Tickets

The lives of my friends are growing all around me like suburbs. They're expanding while I'm still just the same old empty warehouse. A fading facade. A depreciating asset.

Soon I'll become a liability, and dangerous to be near. Promise to tear me down and rebuild. Re-zone my heart. It will become an historic landmark one day, I swear.

In the meantime, everyone around me is still an open wound. I'd give it all away to sleep the whole night through again.

I'm pretty sure that I've never felt a pat on the back that I didn't suspect as being a shove. I've been too busy writing tragedy to notice that you and I are shaping up to do big things.

Been tracking the new panic at the disco album. It will be the jaws of life to your ears this summer, prying away the lull. Pretty. Odd.

BulletproofLoneliness

SpinCycleStomach

We've got black magic under our tongues. I swallowed how I felt for dinner. The words are all that I can keep down anymore. I'm drinking my heart back through a straw.

You might as well manufacture gears inside of my body. I'm programmed to forget everything. Preset my dialog feature, and fix all of my wires before morning. The days rarely look so bright as when I'm looking in your eyes.

.Express Lane Lover.

I heart my former self, in between arms and a safe place right now. Pavor Nocturnus. The end credits are about to roll and so are we. Less like credits, and more like whose to blame.

If I come out with my hands up will you promise to place a pen in them and write a conclusion to all of this?

Turn Off The Shyness

The back of my eyelids are the best I have to offer on days like this. Soft to the touch and honest.

I love you the most in the A.M.'s... when you're dressed "finals week chic" and wandering towards a glass of water. Sweat pants, and a messy pony tail. There is sincerity in your comfort. Let's test this out and see where we fall. I wrote the answers on the palm of my hand. I swear if you'll just sit next to me we'll make the grade.

I shot true romance in the chest. It was never about me at all, it was competition. Every ring I wear has been stolen or broken. Your heart is my new fashion statement. When I say let's take turns, I mean for the better.

Autocratic hearts and throats. Tongues loving on untouched skin and the words less spoken. These last few weeks have me hoping that you're only blooming when you appear to be wilting on the outside. If it makes it easier, I'm dying to be dearly forgotten, not wrongly remembered.

If I'm going to admit it's all for you it will be our moment. Don't bother sending in your troops to gather Intel. You're aware of my hearts location. Now ditch the anchor, and swim back to me.

Put A Little Love In Her Void

I send warnings with the lines on my forehead. City lights explode in our rough hearts and between interlocked finger tips. Let's love like far-away planets, pulling closer until we break into a million excuses.

Let them all go ahead and void their loneliness with their cardboard friends. They'll come back to us when they blow over. Drink to the excitement, while keeping your lips sealed. We'll still be the only thing in focus.

funcrushin'

My whole life is an overdose of complication. I'm not your friend I'm a stock option. I dare you to trade me.

I love when your texts vibrate their way onto my screen in the middle of all of this. For you I'll always choose "accept." "Ignore" is only for the rest of them.

My big heart and best intentions will always trump whatever hand (or heart) you're holding onto.

After all, I'm just a test pilot behind the controls of this massive machine called life. Enjoy your in-flight movie as I weigh heavy on the throttle. Don't think for a moment that I won't take us down with a forced heartbeat if the mood catches me just right... just to be your parachute.

Good Things Are Coming

I'm just longing to be inside your company. She caught a moment of weakness in my eye and in that landslide of a glance, I was nearly buried.

Dear to my heart are the yellows of the moon. I see her waving a flag at me. It's not quite white, and it's not quite surrender... but it's got me curious.

Ice cold blue lips, vocal chords, and tongue in the back of my head with everything that I wish I could say. The tip of the iceberg of a credit check on the emotionally bankrupt. Looking for the last life jacket on this sinking ship called life.

I feel like a slow motion replay of a crash that never happened.

You are concrete and boomerangs and everything that I know I can count on. Thank you for that. When my back feels like breaking, or my stomach feels like heaving, or my eyes feel like raining I will always think of that.

Remember this is real. Even when your head is spinning, and your heart is fluttering, and you are hiding tears amongst the skyline.

I Told Them All That I Would Re-Tire On This Date

I'm the only one who is going to get away with making excuses today. Snow White pills and the following 7 hours. Watch this. I hugged her goodbye at the airport this afternoon just in case. I'm Act One of her tragedy. Sorry folks, the Second Act didn't make it much past rehearsal, so there will be no intermission. I'm all that was written.

Sometimes the people you expect to be there are no shows. Especially when you're on the tile floor heaving, and the medics are doing all that they can to save both mother and child. A screen cap is just a quick moment captured in time. So screen cap this life... where prescription drugs were just another excuse, and everyone had an alibi.


I swore I'd make it back/up to you, so consider this the follow through.

WeAllWantSomethingElse

You Are My Suitcase

All beautiful things fade out, that's why fireflies flash. The glass is half full so watch my eyes. This isn't a trick, but magical comes to mind.

We've been through it all and we've eaten the stars right out of the sky together. My thoughts only make sense with your explanations.

Stick Out The Rounds And Just Wait For The Count

Happiness to my best friend is a chunk of a bone that he forgot he buried under my pillow. I want that type of life. The four-hour memory kind. Where every time I hear the word "outside" and "car" I get ecstatic. It's not that ignorance is bliss, it's just that a lapse in memory can be the greatest gift on the worst of days.

No one understands his whines. I'm not even sure if I do half of the time. I just know that I want to make it all better. We have our own language. One made of late night kicks, and licks on the face. He buries his nose at my feet, and sometimes, in the pit of my arm. The worst of me somehow helps him relax.

Artificially sweetened limelight. Been reading too much Coelho to the point that I have a new obsession with legacy, being murdered, and seaside towns. Gotta get out more.

Tucking My Chin And Walking Into The Storm

The smiles lately have all been real, even if the writing doesn't show it... I'm in love with everything that is broken and sometimes I like it when what's broken is in love with me back. Forever kids are magnets for each other.

I just put the best thing in my life on a flight home. Shaking hands still hold this ugly head upright.

I'm going back to lonely, but only like a cigarette. I'm pretty sure I'm always being smoked somewhere though. Somewhere in this town I'm being placed to all of their mouths just to be put out. It's no secret that my mouth moves faster than my head ever could, and lets not even speak of the words that are at my finger tips. They're never thought through. They just kinda come and come, like the light underneath the door. Real poets speak with their fists, and I'm trying to be remembered.

Hope is the most fragile thing, but it sticks in the back of your head, just like her. It pulses through your legs and can make you run up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. I knew I had to meet you in an aisle this Sunday morning. I knew I had to wake up to the biggest eyes that I've ever seen. Although I'm not built for alarm clocks, my everything is built for timelessness.

Narcoleptic fodder... that's what I am. Don't think for a second that I wouldn't be awake for my own downfall... it's just not that easy. Even the doctors are in disbelief. I'm well aware that there is absolutely no insurance for this. Clearly I'll only go broke trying to keep up.

If you looked inside you'd see artifacts that'd proved I once cared much more about all of this... it's just that there is this other world deep inside my head and sleep that feels so much more alive lately.

Nocturnal Admissions

Fingers crossed only betray held hands over exchanged vows. I'm sure that sentence is as clear as my head right now. Spent some time in an MRI this afternoon. There is no room colder or smaller. I'm sure the results will mention the affection imprinted deep inside my head... for you.

I met the stranger that I've been dreaming of in the waiting room this week, and the new year has suddenly become like fireworks over the valley. She is electric bursts of color. The last few days say so. I will keep writing you stories if it will help you sleep.

She writes me old fashioned letters with her perfume on the pages, and with crossed out words that she took back... like "is this really happening?"

Welcome Back

Back in town, but keeping out of touch and reach from most. Here's to laying low. All electronics off. Including alarm clocks and phones. It's literally what the doctor ordered. Resolutions are for the weak, so of course I have a few, but my first is to not share it all.

Back(ed) into my favorite corner this afternoon.. on purpose. Kept the overhead light off so they couldn't see the emotion.

My mind is running, but more like in place. It's kind of how life is. You wouldn't understand what I mean. You and they have been here before but it isn't the same for me. And trying to explain anything is just leaving me with a dry mouth and sore shoulders... and you shaking your head (not in disagreement but more like disbelief).

Take theses and "mellow out" they said, but that has been the problem all along... at least one of them.

Watched the ball drop trying to forget another year of favors (and how long it's gonna take to repay them.)

Times Square counted down and I called it even at zero as I wrote a certain someone's name on the fogged up window, watching the millions below ringing in my latest regret. I'm not in love with failure anymore, it's in love with me.