we talk every day
screen in hand we share the world
every detail in black and white
your voice sounds so much sweeter
when your lips are in front of me
and not the camera
i said i would stay
my promises slipped away, got lost
trickled through the cracks and left
maybe one day further along
ill get a little better at keeping
all these promises
i did it to be free to spread my clipped wings -
but now i sit and wonder if i could have stayed
The old yellow dog struggles to the window
His posture still majestic;
Does he dream of adventures long ago –
Of the rivers and the golden field?
The moonbeam suffers on the curtain;
Does this one cry in his heart for the joyous time
Before the city and the fences and the paved roads?
My tears betray me
i am surrounded by warm bodies,
but i crave a loving touch.
the world is fast pacing
but i feel like i am stuck.
my stomach isn't doing well, and neither is my brain
my heart just got up from a grave, and oh look- it's falling again.
I. '88 dakota
mondays still suck. granted i don't get up at the crack of dawn no more but around noon i always feel the need to leave the rest of the day behind me and take the big red monster out and go to the beach and contemplate my life for hours, so i'll reach into my tattered 35 year old prada bag for a lanyard that says "nirvana" on it (like the band, not the stage of buddhism), but then i remember that gas guzzler and i got 337 miles between us, no more, no less.
on wednesdays i feel like i've shifted into an alternate universe where there are things other than evergreen trees and dirt roads, where the view when i look out the window is an interstate and dagger-like icicles that are as tall as me. maybe it started when they took down the texaco star in freeland and maybe it started the day i left, but i'm not sure if i can remember what home feels like anymore.
i still miss you on thursdays, sometimes saturdays. i know, i thought i woulda found someone better by now too till i realized that i'd been giving myself false hope this entire time. no one will ever be you. no one's teeth will curve the same way. no one will ever love the home teams as much as you. no one will ever smile as hard when i give them my last kit-kat in a strip mall parking lot at sunset. they drink to dak prescott and spit wintergreen griz more than you ever did. i thought i would find someone better until i walked into the coldest part of heaven with some crinkled twenty dollar bills and a carharrt jacket.
My country's split apart.
And here I am, somewhere else
Relaxing from the start.
My country's president is crazy.
She's selfish, rude and lazy
But here I am, worthless and powerless
Can't do anything for my country.
I'd like to go back there
And do something. Anything!
But I'm still young. Like a broken string.
Who can't do anything but sit and draw.
And read and write.
I really do want to go back home. I do.
It's 12:35 and I'm missing you
In a way, I am missing you all the time
But it's worse here because the sky is bleached
And the heavens has no stars that shine.
This thought scares me
For there's nothing that makes me feel nearer to you,
I hope you're up still
looking at the empty sky just like I do
I've heard people who are away from each other say-
"at least we're under the same sky"
but we're not,
because it doesn't rain here the way it does back home,
the sun isn't warm enough to tingle my bones.
the sky here bends to meet buildings and towers,
not the hills and mountains and their wonder
So I say-
"but we're not. the sky here is different."
As a child
I used to cry in my mom's arms.
I remember it vividly,
I was about six or seven years old.
Telling her that "I want to go home,"
Before I broke into sobs.
I don't recall what my thought process was,
Or what possessed me to break down and cry.
I hadn't moved in years.
It was like I was watching myself from far away.
And I've always felt homesick
For a home I've never had.
And I don't know
If being homesick had anything to do
With watching the sunset alone in a tree
I was always so bad at climbing,
Until I could only see purple and teal spots
After it finally set.
And I don't know
If home is better described
As watching the sunset,
But from the inside?
And I don't know,
If being homesick
Is really that important,
But I know that every time,
It had to do with
Not believing this place on Earth was really mine.
But what I do know about being homesick
Is that I don't really get it,
Because I haven't really been homesick
Since I met you.
Because ever since we clicked,
Whether it be now or then,
I haven't been homesick,
And I don't want that to end.