Reoccurring themes and
new beams of light breaking through
the cloud cover to shine down on
the streets and trees around me.
Casting a shadow where my
stillness used to be.
But for me,
there's a theory left in there
& you'll see the trees begin to bend.
Tend to the seams
& trap the light.

Find some peace of mind in the cracks and the binds.
You've been mended once, you'll mend me this time.
We'll all see the sunshine when you open the blinds.

Nothing I say is funny,
but somehow it's hysterical.
I hear whistling in the morning,
but I don't see the whistler.

Go jog; then to a sprint.
(through a slaughterhouse)
Tell me, can you imagine yourself?
(covered in insects) Rotting between
the ears,

Do you ever find yourself trying?
                                      (too hard)
                                               (way too hard)
Trying to account for lost time.
Wake up at 1 a.m. -getting shocked.
Feel your heart (sprint) and stop on a dime.

Feel your heart stop (once in a while)
Learn to love what's good and good for you.
No rotting out. More speaking out.

Nothing I say is funny,
but somehow it's hysterical.
I hear whistling in the morning,
but I don't see the whistler.

Unhinged again.
Tired and untied,
loosely bundled,
huddled and dodging
rain puddles.
Cold cement, slick and
unforgiving, giving you
sweet/sour visions of
each year gone past.
Longing to be home at last;
warmth and a television broadcast.
Something remains.
Some distance retains
its unsympathetic pains
embedded in the grains of your being.
Being so cold, coy, together, but alone
for the long winter to come.

Where have we been?                           (lost)
You and I are trying our hardest.        (to get lost)
Busted, falling short. Trying and trying.
                                                                Giving our all.
Sped up, running. Knowing. Craving the unkowing.
                                                                (lost)
Cut down a dead tree; make a fire live.

Sometimes it's better to sit and wait;
there's too much weight on the strings
in that mind of mine.
I've seen too much. (too fast)
I haven't sat long enough
to make any of it last.
(You've ran past.)

I've spent a night in the woods;
laying on a bench, looking at
meteors,
    thinking of the coulds and shoulds.

My dreams spend the night with you
and mix themselves into your sleep.
They nestle up into your sweater
until you can't dream any better.