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.