She sits on the bed as the world passes by
time flies on, but she sits still
alone on this bed

people float in and out
none seem to stay
numb isolation

blankly staring, people blurring
world still turning
no one's there
more than she can bear

same old story, bleak and boring
she can't hold them near.
for fear of what they will hear

pride and anger etch this picture
she keeps herself on the bed
nothing more to be said.

Gurgle, gurgle, clank
strong coffee wisps around the three
a liquidy black blanket envelops all they see
like stars to the moon they flock
night after night

guarding hawks of their own self story
yet calling for attention
gently imploring
their smooth reflection in the mahogany
burned by the cigarette ****
erased by the sweep of a hand

Deceitful lies, unrequainted cries
Sing sweet lullabies

Torched these chains
Yet, still they kept her bound

Freedom at a glance beyond the shutters
A picture much less hopeful to others.

Blistering sun amidst the icy slick trees.





Only fantasies.





A blissful dream, ignorant of reality
A world of escape, a risk she's willing to take.

One step closer, a rigid drop
A big bang, "POP"

Her bubble bursts
She comes back down

Those **** chains,
She's bound.

Pondering floats easily on choppy waters
Hope also floats, yet is seldomly seen
It's dragged down by the ships with heavy anchors.

Densely fogged
under caked make-up from yesterday's tears
fakely disguised beneath the crowd
of masochists and nonbelievers

Hearts plead and bleed as one
based upon no one at all
seething fear pounded through fists of rage
anguish of lost hopes and lost causes

Where do I go
for whom do I show
should I grieve
for a land that is no more than make believe?

Despairing and looking for cheap cigarettes
they gather on their gravelly haven
spurning the world and hating
what it's become
nothing but **** and ***

Those who came before us
naive double standards fearing our new status
the putrid stench of change clings to our chains
burdened by the nonbelievers

Where do I go
for whom do I show
should I make believe
in the world we grieve

Beneath the fiery lit town, a small girl glows
burning embers making a show.
Truth bleeds from her limbs, deep from her soul
seeking to win

His heart of course, bound with a lock
but she has the key to make it all stop.
They fit, clearly, despite the hopeless hub
can this really be love?

Stars raining to the soft earthen scene
dripping from smoldering lamps, their gaslit kerosene.
His eyes full of spectre and awe
hers swelled with hope in what she saw.

karmic-ly enchanted lovers from the start,
forever entangled with the vines pumping through their hearts.

The car seems too loud to stand
without music, words, or whir of the engine.

Absence

A loaded void of noise,
echoes our meeting.

Dragged out answers in
one word sputters
speech slowly grows.

A flower yearning for sun.
Her dearest hears what has been longed for,
her sweet voice,
a daisy transformed.

Blooming, the speech continues on
babbling like a young brook in spring
open and free, too soon shut down.
Confusion to the birds and bees...
ravens and wasps.

Clouds grow heavy with sorrow,
the daisy disintegrates under their tears
quietly she sits back.
Crimson leaflets tightly pursed and locked;
silken petals like stone
her silence stronger than words.

Paint my life
Paint it with bright colors
Not with a brush
But with a pen

Write me an epic
Sing me a serenade
Let the words flow like water down a glacier
Pure and free

Wind rushing against the autumn burnt trees
Its voice howling, moaning with warning of Jack Frost in her midst

A piece of me dies
Along with the season
A new phase of life begins
A time to embrace

"Where do I belong?", some man sings in his song
she can't seem to answer either
the question sinks deeper

Sick of all the tired quotes and overused anecdotes
They can't satiate her yearn
what is there left to learn of myself?

Her feet slide there and don't fit here
She's like a wolf with oversized ears
abandoned from the pack
left to follow dusted tracks

Sick of all the tired quotes and overused anecdotes
They can't satiate her yearn
what is there left to learn of myself?

A big bustling city with a little lost girl
Supposedly afraid of the world
Her bolting marine eyes search the sky
where do I belong

Sick of all the tired quotes and overused anecdotes
They can't satiate her yearn
what is there left to learn of myself?

Gentle and silent she makes her move
one click to capture their groove
forever impressioned on her film
the world has changed

Sick of all the tired quotes and overused anecdotes
They can't satiate her yearn
what is there left to learn of myself?

Her reflection, something new, confused
the man continues on with his song
They still don't know where they belong

A touch so familiar for a thousand or so years
drifts away slowly...and abruptly disappears.
Waves crashing dully and precious pearls just waste
the bottom dwellers have a taste.

Disguised as a hero, he dressed highly as a prince
left alone to discover, yet again, she was amiss.
Her eyes led astray in a rosy tinted way
her heart followed loyally, what else was there to say?

Flowers lined the path, daisies, roses, and tulips
each faded and couldn't last, that princess didn't get the hint.
Blindly she continued down that growing starker road
that prince was returning to a toad.

Longer she walked not realizing she was alone
her head held high like a candle in a cone.
She followed crooked trees and dried up yesterdaisies
no one really knew what became of princess Lynn Phasey

She traveled days, weeks, and months
searching for something, she couldn't say just what.
A heart through hell and a dreary twisted forest
beating to swell for a promise once more, yes.

The train blows its horn
while the wheels clunk and churn;
my soul aches and my heart burns.

Punk rock girl, why are you crying?
you look as though you're slowly dying.
You're hair is so greased
seems as though your heart's newly on lease.

...The night was long
and explanations drawn
but he promised to still be here
when night gave way to dawn.

He kept his word,
as i heard the morning birds.
I laid my head upon his chest
both in need of meaningful rest...

Punk rock girl, I see a glimmer in your eyes
you seem a little shocked and surprised.
He would never leave you, hit the pavement and cease you.
The love is deeper.
No matter the times you must say good bye,
there will always be a "hi"

The train blows its horn
while the wheels clank through
my soul smiles and my heart soothes.

Every saint has a past
Cherry peaked and snow white pure
Each cherubim face is but a mask
Hiding away the evil they endure

Inch by inch the porcelain pretense cracks deeper
Spilling out demons from which their souls were molded
Flying towards heaven, out of reach for hell's keeper
Beating their wings against all odds, remaining golden

So you see, these sinners distinguish the path ahead
Leaping with a newborn's spirit and
Changing for the better instead
No longer fearing where they stand

Though the wake is left murky and dreary
Hearts of a new soul spot the light and travel unweary

Breathe in deeply,
now hold.



Can you feel everything deteriorating,
or is it just letting go?

Loosen up and laugh
nothing matters really

I don't care...do you?

Life is simple from way up here

Time just passes

but what are you supposed to do when this cloud
begins to melt?



Exhale

Leave me alone, I'm lonely
the sun won't come out today
too much is loudly changing
but keeping me the same

Leaves are falling
I'm still crawling
aching for something to remain
to take a piece of you to keep
to stay

Leave me alone, I'm lonely
I don't want to play.
push me back into memories
take me back in the day

I want to feel safe again
warm in your arms
carry me to bed
say what you've always said
kiss me on the head
good night sweetie
now go to bed

When the world disappears will you be there to see it all? See the stars fall down around us?Stare God in the eye? Can you imagine the looks on their faces when they see the grip we have amongst the free dancing of frenzied people? They will say we aren't real, but are they? How can they sing of fate and prophesy when life is unfolding right before their newly opened eyes? Why can't they take flight and free themselves to soar in the glory of the end? Heaven descends among those who understand the eternity of blooming promise. When will we know the others who see like us? Will their wardrobe be a pristine white or the same as always? Is there ever a way to know angels walk among us? Still the stars raining down like chandelier fireworks steal the fleeting attention of the population's anxieties. We sit and watch the fire show dance on the lake.

A pair of converse
Simple enough
Ratty and torn
Lying on the ground
Missing half of a shoelace
Holes near the toe

In some eyes tattered and trash
To others it is a statement of love,
But also caution
A step into the highly guarded soul

White dotted lace lines
Swerve and curl along the sides
As if they were the life lines of a palm
With each turn bringing one closer to its memories and tales

If only our shoes could talk...what would they say?

Listen closely

Two birds sitting on a sturdy branch,
he says to his other,"My dear, how have i missed you all this time?
Always at my side, greeting me every bright morning no matter the weather,
Sing me a cheery morning tune."

The other says to her lover, "I sit here every morning waiting for the day you'll sing to me waiting to see i care, to know i am there. Croon me a beautiful tune"

The lover says to his other, "I can't sing very well but I trust you can tell I'll do it anyway to show I see you sitting there, I do care"

The other says to her lover, " There is no sound you can make that will drive me away. I am here to stay"

They join together
beaks flat to the other's, those two lovers