Just a wind that blows
On a fair summer's day.
No rhyme or reason
To my lovely, restless way.

Gentle sky filled with blue
Got my head stuck in a cloud.
But when the sky loses her light
And the dusk turns into night
Is when I'll finally speak
Aloud.

And I'll wonder,
"When will it be
'Til the silence
Finally sets me free?"
And I'll wonder,
"When will it end -
The bittersweet memories
That only time can mend?"

'Cause time passed
Me by, instead.
Like the birds flying
Over my head.

Another day passed by.
Man, the air's sure getting warm,
So I'll wait by my window
For the oncoming storm.

That's when the clouds roll in -
A dusky grey that calms my soul.
And when the rain stars coming down
From the sky's cumulus crown
Is when I'll finally feel whole.

Let me dream
In a bed of ground ivy
And not be afraid of
The bugs scurrying
Through the earth.

Let me speak
In effervescence
So that I may believe
In the truths I tell
Myself.

And let these truths
Be sweet and firm
In their nature
Rather than weigh
Me down and wrap
Me in barbed wire.

Let my spirit be free
Of past transgressions.
Uproot my feet
So I may follow
The wind.

Somedays, I'm not
Sure why I come.
Strings of my feeble
Heart coming undone.
Frayed ends throbbing
Like the nicotine craving
In my head.

The sober call of
Loneliness from my
Drunken soul.
I speak to this here
Ukulele to feel a
Bit more whole.

But in the end, it's
Just an object that
Can't think or speak
Or feel,
And I wonder if
Anything I believe
In is real.

Some days, I'm not sure
Why I stay.
Something tells me I can't
Express myself, anyway.

Not in the way I
Want you to understand,
Anyway.

Sitting in these crowded places,
I'm a face in a sea of faces.

A face in a sea of faces.

I lie with eyes
Stinging with a lack of
Sleep, open with a
Burning gaze boring a hole
In my ceiling.

I had woken from a dream
Of a man with the skin tone
Of my morning coffee, and
A stare that stripped
My body from my
Quivering soul.

-------------------

Moments of slipping
Out of class to take
A peek at the dense
Fog rolling in.
Hovering above
The skin of our
Heads like a smoky
Halo of water
Particles.

The thick, grey air
Has probably never
Seen such a
Beautifully dead
City.

-------------------

With rooms shrounded in
Undertones of dull grey, what
Can I do but conceal my
Own color so that the walls
Don't steal it away?

I wish that this
Tension underneath
My skin could just
Seep out of my
Pores and alleviate
My soul from its
Unbearable pressure.
Let it trickle
Down and evaporate
Into the warm,
Sunny air.