Life half-fulfilled on a front porch
Watching a garden of good greens
But missing one little piece.

A little seed to grow into a pretty scene,
A little you and all the things I'd ever need.

Gave you a quick smile, said it could be awhile
Until I gather all the fixtures that fit me.
I won't deny a chance for chivalry
By making sure your sense of comfort is with me

This patch in my garden is weeding wild.
I'll still push on for the maintenance meanwhile.
I know the best in life is worth waiting for
I know there's four seasons in life we're waiting for.

Walking around the town,
Said it could be awhile
And it's killin me.
The locals know the garden just misses a piece
One that heals just a moment of me.

My life made its home
in my heart.
It flickers
a burning ember
with nothing to save
...but my heart
that always burns
with why and where
we could be.
I feel comfort some days
...but my heart
trusts only myself
in this life in my home
where you were not
and didn't want to be.

My home is my heart
and my life is my

I ran against the wretched wind
With whimpering empty breathing
That couldnt push my lungs to go on.

I let myself die there
So i could carry on this creation.
It's dark lifeless lore--yet to me it lived.

It held no expectation
And burdened no hope.
Just boundlessly free and naive.

It lusted hard and loved.
Years have past and it's living within me,
a makeshift memoir to a self I could be.
I'm building the strength to cast it away
And fight through the wind with my new improved me.

Now, words feel irrelevant.
False hopes are losing to reality.

"She walks the niiight"
Sorry Dallas I didn't get the memo,
17 days were not enough to love her.
Even a year went by without me knowing,
not feeling what I used to feel,
what I know I could feel.

I don't know if I can ever feel it again.
Maybe I'll find out
In 17 days.

Where did my life go?
I asked as I watched the sunrise
from eyes in my bleeding head,
as I knew not where I was
but more where I'd been.

I didn't know the truck stop bench
that I awoke a bleeding mess on
with only a dry whisky tongue
to whisper what the ****.

I didnt know the cracks in my phone
came likely from a crackhead's home
where I reached the top of the ski hill
only to tumble down
with no boots on.

I didn't know my deep head wound
came while I came unglued
as I fought for a life I guess I knew
would come to this
because this is how I've been.

Where did my life go?
I feel it safe and waiting for me.
Only I can reach it,
it answers just to me.

A head ringing
under a moonlight blinding
with a sun waiting
for its call to peek.

Waiting for the resting in rubble,
the grieving in gallows
and the ones too gone
to end tonight but alone.

The curtains of the night
sweep them away
leaving them stray in a thought
that how many times must the night
take all but my life and leave me to rot.