Finally the door
has opened just a crack
my toes are almost in
and I'm already ready
to not look back
while I fall into another life.

the light on the front porch
that leads me out from the storm,
the crackling in the fireplace
that keeps my cold soul warm,
the food lining the fridge shelves
that fill me when I'm starved,
and the blankets on the bed at night
that keep me bundled, safe from harm

I'm a six foot castle
with a head made of stone
you tried to get in
but you battled all alone
My eyes are battlements from
which I fire missiles to
fight off all my demons
they never leave me alone

My minds a raging bar fight
with people throwing chairs
you came in a dress
you were so unprepared
My hands are devils tools
with which I make my music
I write up all my demons
they never leave me alone

But this is just a lie
my walls are made of skin
and they're not air tight
my eyes are just eyes
with a touch of blue
Irises and pupils with which
I watch you battle all alone

I know I'm not a castle but
I've got this head made of
stone

I've done this before
the      d       i         s            t           a          n          c               e

game.

Must be something
special cause I swore
I'd never futs with
that again.

But here I am
marking days off my
calender     X     X     X
X     X      X

My pupils are turning green
that loot, that coin, that greed
money doesn't grow on trees
**** straight, but I throw cash
on eighths, domed so my foot
don't hit the brake.
high on the way, I don't tail gate
I pass
Hear a bump in my trunk
my stash,
rattlin' around to the amp,
off that ramp, round the corner to the
courthouse,
sippin' on a shake
bought with food stamps
**** this I'm out
home to crash on the couch
and scheme
cream, cream, I want my cheese
stacked like chedda' on the line
at my minimum wage grind
Cops gave me a fine
like I got time to pay that ****
can't blame 'em though
they tryin' to get what I got
in my pocket
my wallet
you called it
Money

The barking dog, disappearing, driving,
ashes, Eddie, Jake,
divorce, holes in souls, constellations,
I don't know, I am Arturo Bandini,
I am the sweatshirt that hugged her arms,
Stolen sweatshirt, smokey sweatshirt,
apologies, broken necklace,
whatever

Fine rain falls onto the reflection pool,
tiny ripples bouncing off each other,
transient touch.
Mist hangs on the mountains,
shrouds peaks.
A bell tolled out,
reverberating purity,
find peace in obscurity.

These days it feels like
I'm ghosting
Going from place to place
never in one spot, posting
I'm staying close to
the coast
cause the ocean's the
only place I call home
Forgot about the one
I grew up in
by taking smoke to my
dome
Now instead I feel like an
alien
abandoned by his planet
and sent out to roam
But when in Rome I
don't even wear the Roman clothes
and God knows I don't
think the way they do
I used to have a
group
but now I'm my
own crew
And everyone's got each
other's back right?
Naw, I got my own dude.
tell me I'll pull through
and I'll show you why you're
wrong
There's nothing keeping
me here
by the end of this song
I could be gone
Dust in the wind
with one pill or
one cut
Cause my brain's tired
from thinking too
much
and not getting a
single answer
this thought that it's
not worth it is
spreading like cancer
but I think it's
pretty like a dancer
at my funeral there
to dance me away
while I go
you know?
It wouldn't be too bad
to be a
ghost

Consistant honesty,
something I lacked
when I was a younger me.
But now I find it hard
to bite my tongue,
so eager to roll out
a frank wound or
two.
Or blow out a cloud of,
"I don't agree."
I have to stand up for me.
If that nonstop candor
is really what you
crave,
then come back and
let me drool out
consistant honesty.

We flipped them all over
so they were all lucky.
It'd been a bad week
inhale them all, make it smokey
puffs of gold broke air
killing us slow like we wanted
giving plain 'ol death flare
as he shriveled around haunted
grounds seen by us
throw another body on the pile
we can handle it now, tough.
mouths filling with bile
so we spit it out to the porch
disrespectful, perhaps,
but no more than many outside of church
then we sit back and relapse
hoping this next gasp
might be our last, too bad
these cigarettes **** us
s        l          o           w         l       y

I'm envious of playing cards,
played according to the game,
unashamed for following the rules.
The suites mix seamlessly,
pressed together to make the deck.
When they're drawn up
they're played immediately,
know their fate
when their face meets the light.
Then they lay discarded for awhile,  
before being shuffled up,
and brought back to life.

The dryer spins it's cycle out
heated and roaring
Stout through out the restless night
spent churning the day over
in my mind.
Blunt, M, saved lives, little escape
got woven into stories about
SoCal amigos, tattoos and lingo
on top of that M, on top of that hill
it was her that tripped, but me that f
                                                               ­ e
                                                                ­  l
                                                             ­       l

I don't know about all this
it feels an awful lot like a trap
a pit covered with leaves
eternal peace dangling above it
when I reach it the ground gives
and I'll fall, expect to hit an end,
but end up much worse,
back in the city.

My parents might say
I've grown up since I left the Bay
that Long Beach has seen me mature
sure I'm older, more composed
but if you ask me,
I just feel detached
and lonely.

I'm sorry I'm debris,
I collect in the corners
slowly cluttering,
until you bonk your toes
against me,
but never enough to pick up
and toss out.
This feeling is prickly,
constantly picks at me.

I'm sorry
I can't shake it,
it has grabbed hold, twisted around
my intestines.
The worst is, I know that it's empty--

that it's an old enemy,
who used to claw at me,
since grown tired,
now gathered it's wits
to come back,
commit more atrocities.
I hope it won't tear you

from me.

I've heard that in Norway
the attitude is
when you wait at a bus stop
you leave a few meters between
you and the next guy
I identify with that mindset
people don't get it
they take my kindness as closeness
lean on me when they're
too drunk
but I don't want to be touched
I'm not mean or anything
I just need space
and I won't start telling you
everything that happened
in my life
My roommates don't even know
that my grandma died
it's not my intention to hide
I haven't become distant
or cold
or shut in
right?

There are generations of kings
and peasants buried in my bones
though I claim to be neither
riches and starving stomachs
reside in my skin
though I've only experienced one
there are daughters and sons
doves and guns
my flesh is a tree
torn from the earth
my death will be
another's birth

The trees don't transform
like they used to.
Hills don't morph into
dragons.
These empty boxes
no longer soar through
the clouds

The trees are just trees
the hills, hills
the box, a box
if this is growing up
let me
          stay a kid
                          forever

My circadian rhythm's all ****** up
I can't seem to care about it all that
much
wake up late it's okay
I'll smoke my cigarette
and start my day

Go to class I guess I will
for an hour or so till I get
my fill
then I'll say,
"**** the rest
I'm tired of this test!"
I'll take the bus home
to my loneliness
where I'll wait
I'll wait
I'll wait

I      miss      the       days      when
   things        were      good    or
bad