I
I know, I
I’ve thought it before, I
You’re right, of course
I
Choke on my words
Choke them back in turns
Fumbling with my twisted tongue
To spit out the right lines
Only what’s right
Only
Only my throat closes them down and
I
Yeah, probably
I should yeah, I should
I
Won't
Muscles clench and spasm at the thought
Never once made to move quite like that
Practiced at avoidance
Pro at backing down
Not even yet a novice at self-help
I
I’ll let it pass, I guess
See if things change, I
Don’t want to rush
I
Know six years is hardly rushing
But **** it’s worked before
To batten down my hatches
Close off the heart of my mind
Choke back, choke back
Clench, hold, avoid
Rush, rush, away
I
Yeah
I know
You’re Right
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
She wonders
(more often then she'd ever admit)
Whether it might be worth it
(and she quietly believe it might)
To shuffle of this mortal coil
(perhaps earlier than she'd planned)
If only to escape responsibilities
(as she's dreadfully selfish)
And wonders how it is
That's she's kept herself so far
Tied to the ground
(Though honestly she knows)
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
More often than not
my feelings manifest like the notes
of songs I have ingrained in my skin
and to find the words
that translate the way anger and sorrow and…
I don't even have the words for emotions
I don't understand them
beyond their most basic of means
I don't know how to say I'm so mad I could….
but I know what it sounds like
If asked how I feel
I can feel the motion in Piano Concerto No. 1
that means my skin is tingling
my heart is beating faster then
that drum roll Jukka plays and just as fiery and just as raw
It's never come naturally to me
to discuss how I feel
my instinct is to make someone listen to a song and tell them
that
right there
that note
that tremble in his throat
the way those chords interact
That's what I'm feeling
perhaps one day someone will hear it too
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Why the feeling of nostalgia
when sitting in an airport on your own for the
how many times is it now?
well this is the last at least
for awhile
What can I miss when I chose
on my own
to leave this place behind, is it regret?
or the natural progression of emotion in events you can't control
but I'm in control, I am, I'm in
this motion half between happy and apathetic and
**** why'd you have to make me miss it here
and I haven't even left
Nostalgic for nothing
for what I chose to forego for myself
for the people, though few, I'll miss and mourn
for the culture for the music for the body
that no one else will quite understand
How many 'you had to be there's
how many 'I guess it's only a thing there's
how many times will I look at art
look at rocky, horror
look at a cynic and think
'damn what have I done'
It's an in-between kind of emotion
that will pass I have no doubt
pass and leave room for a chance I'd never get to take
but **** the in-between
**** the waiting
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
Half a breath
always enough just to keep relevant
enough just to keep alive
but never to offer it up for you
and I watch as someone else exhales
the life you need
and I can keep breathing by your side
as long as I have my
half a breath
but I just can't quite seem to catch
one whole enough to offer you
what you need
Half a breath
like many others
is all I have
so I'm forced to let someone else
fill your lungs
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
I didn't notice that I'd touched the ground
until I began to take my steps
in time with all these feet that I thought
I would never quite catch, yet
here we are in pace
and I can feel the earth under my soles almost always
for the first time
in awhile
and though the nights still make me anxious
as midnight chimes I fear I've lifted off again
each night
like clockwork
makes me anxious
so far the daylights waken me once more
grounded me
and ever forward I can move
finally
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
dizzy, dizzy
walked in the cold and now
so dizzy, dizzy
what's it like to walk and sway
on your way to the shell in
the night and maybe trip a little but
not have to
worry, so dizzy
pleasant chatter at the locked up
door, **** two nice old guys
whats it like not to have to
doubt, keep two paces back
spilling words, smiling, sharing
doubting what's it like not to
feel so dizzy
voodoo child, diet coke stomach
wind bit cheeks and a pack of
**** I don't need just for a
breathe of air in the night to not feel
so jealous and hopeless
and instead there's cold
and cold
and fear
and judgement
and cold
and dizzy
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
I shot myself in the foot
Almost a year ago now
but I've only just realized it's still bleeding
I felt it twinge in the fall
felt the welt as it began to fester
but **** I'd thought it'd heal
The trickle is starting to stain
and I'm not quite sure it can be stopped
I'm not quite sure that I don't just have to live with it
I've got a solder and some gauze
but is it too much to ask
that I just get the bullet out?
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
******* freezing
but what the hell, it's real
ice and chill made by snow and wind and winter
storm rising up for the day, for
the night - the last night
well almost the last night
but who's counting
Tropical paradise sits on the horizon
or more like, lurks in the corner
of my east facing eyes just
to the right I see the jet trails of my
inevitable flight back
home?
thats what dad calls it but he never lived there
why is it my home to him?
does it make it easier to watch me go?
if I'm going home instead of leaving them
alone
well almost
The cold the snow the winter chill locking
us in our beds in our rooms
and we watch the news and laugh 'cause
who does fox 25 think they are anyway?
we've weathered worse man but here you are
sitting on Cedar Point acting like
no one would have thought it would flood
no one thought the rocks would come up
over the wall
that sand hills would be left with no sand
that the waves would crash up over the rooftops
like a cold and raging war
jokes on you, man
we were all in on it
I think I'll take this cold
over tropical paradise
where the cold is locked in with you
a necessity to breathe in the thick
the sagging air that wraps you in a - hug?
nah, straight jacket I say
then why do I miss it when I'm here?
The processed AC clanging through the night
the breathe of two half strangers feet away
******* shorts every day
no shoes, no shirt
no **** man it's hot out
maybe dad's on to something
maybe
may
nah
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
And won’t you tell me
If you decide you’ve weathered one crack
Too many, after all this time
Don’t you know that I have tape
Or glue if you’d prefer
Though perhaps that won’t help
I know it’s still too much to ask
That I could be all you need and
I know it isn’t your choice
That the splits won’t stay closed
Despite my glue and my passion
I spit out the wrong thing and it’s no stronger
Than a post-it note, just too old that
Wont
Quite
Hold
But I have glue
Or tape if you’d prefer
Though I think you grow tired of me
Pretending that it’s sticking
And even worse that I want you
To pretend with me.
I wonder if I keep restocking
For your sake or for mine
Do I think one day I’ll find the one
That will hold like cement
Maybe think I’ll coat you in thick resin
A case of clear fiberglass that won’t chip
Won’t crack and you’ll be safe forever
Or do I hope only that you believe I will
That you only turn to me
Is it monopoly I seek?
Or absolution.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC