The palm trees
and the endless sky
this place built of concrete and plywood
it's not mine and
will never be mine

In the evenings
if you are lucky
you see the clouds roll in over the mountains
they look like memories
they'll soon be memories

The first day
felt like a daydream
we left the airport with our minds and hearts open
but things change
as they always change

I think I remember
someone saying that
the first time you leave California a piece of your heart stays
and if that has to be true
then let it be the broken one

When silence covers you
on the inside
looking for a way out
just some crack or hole in your skin
to pour out from
not like blood but sweet
like honey
a slow, sticky flow
of silence
finally

I can never rest from restlessness
there is no room
no space for questions here
just a lingering feeling
that I should try to say something
try to rip the secrets open
and spill their insides out for once
tell the truth like it was supposed to be told
with a smile
and a stare
doubtlessly

I remember when she told me
She would forget me
And everyone else
We were in the kitchen
I was clutching the white teapot
Like I was holding on to
A sliver of hope
And I said nothing
Nothing that meant something anyway
They gave me fourteen more years with her
Maybe less
And I started counting

It just happens by chance
The tear that forms slowly
But then grows steadily over so many years
And you can not mend it
Once it is broken it stays broken
And time passes like nothing

What if I only
Told it like I meant it  
With one hand on the covers and the other
Barely on my heart  
I never pictured myself
As someone so listless

This is the sound life makes
When it pushes me over
They told me the grass was greener
On the other side
I have been there
And I am coming back now

I was drifting somewhere
between awake and a dream state
I figured I was made of stone
to heavy to turn in my covers

And while trying to move my feet
my mother the dying but lovely
whispered in my ear like if I was a child again
words I once knew but forgot

About stories I barely can gather
even from the clearest of fragments of memories
like laying a million-piece puzzle or building a brick house
which I never did and never really I wanted to

I never knew what the thenar space was
until I cut it and saw as the blood trickle like tar if tar could trickle
much thicker than I ever thought it would be
from such a small wound in such a trivial place

They always get longer and wider
my thoughts about this life and it's meanings
and it all loops back to this one inescapable thing
maybe one day I'll gather love and rain and road dust in glass jars like souvenirs

At times like these,
your eyes flicker:
like candle lights,
your heart beats quicker

I grab your hand,
like a  life line,
ask what's up
and your smile meets mine

Darling
in this town
everything is always up
nothing ever gets down

But we will walk
trough stormy weather
and ride the waves
just closer together

I've been a long way
finally returning
to a place I remember
from a memory or a dream

In a different time
I would have been drifting
but this is now
that's all there is to it

I drag my feet in the road dust
it rises in cloud shapes
swirls around my ankles
like little tornados

I turn to see whats behind me
making sure that there's footprints
that there's some kind of trace
for somebody to find