Unending roads,
Whose twists and turns,
Left and rights,
Veiled in obscurity…

Tick-tock…

Tick-tock…

Time is up,
Spurn reason and embrace paranoia.

The choice is yours…
What will it be?

here's to a package of
Marlboro Reds
in the hands of
someone other than
the Marlboro Man
standing in
for those slack-jawed outlaws
my heroes now lack jaws
tongues
lungs

I swear it's been too long
since I inhaled manhood
The Great Darrell Winfield
rolled
packed
and filtered
into the only thing I know
that makes a man a man
the essence of
cowboy boots and farmer's tan
in every drag

see, I inhale my heroes
all the dusty red-necked
cowboys
Darrell Winfield
and my dad
men whose lives
went up in smoke
to coat my throat
in my own self-righteousness
I'm frightened this
is all that I'll have left
of him
lung cancer
and the lingering stench
of cigarettes

he always smelled
of cigarettes

he'd pull me into these
firm embraces
he held so long
that he'd suffocate me
in tacky business
and cigarette smoke
masked only
faintly
by a poor man's
cologne
still I breathed him in
until I'd start to choke
it was too much man to handle

my grandpa told me
“smoking doesn't send you
straight to Hell,
but it sure does make you smell
like you've already been there”

he was
a grown man
cursing
crying
lying
dying by himself
trying to drown out the inferno
with a case of beer
but sobriety finds you sometime
and I'd rather suffocate in cigarettes
than lose him altogether

and even if he smells like Hell
at least that means he made it back

Sometimes, it seems that everything
my heart keeps as truth
I take with me
and lock deep inside of I am sorry
as I breathe the air twisted in the places
where I sleep.  
Yet, there still exist nights
where there is no bed I can dream in
where I do not hear a melody
that feels naturally sweet.

Often,  I stand in the corner
of all I have missed
then find myself walking proudly
beside the wildest loneliness
lying deep inside of
my stubborn heart.  
Then suddenly,
my head clears inside of a silence
and I write poems
from the hands of angels
until the wildest loneliness
has to part.

Different problems come and go,
But this problem arises daily,
It will until the day she dies,
Thats the day I'll be set free,
The day she dies,
I'll truly be happy,
And while this may sound harsh,
Few people know about all she puts me through,
And the few people that know,
Wish death on her too.

Light the lanterns and watch them float higher.
Can I pick out a few stars and hold them?
Can I bask in their light and their fire?
Tonight I vow these stars will not grow dim.
The dark blue sky is an endless canvas.
I plan to paint my life in its blank space.
The cold, brisk air brings about a clearness
My mind empties as I walk my own pace.
The music that comes through my headphones gives
Me a purpose and the darkness of the
Night gives me the strength and want to forgive.
City lights cannot vie with a nova.
The sun will come tomorrow but I will
Be looking for the first star from the sill.