Life is scary. You know?

Not the kind of scary you get from horror movies or a haunted house.
Not the kind of scary like when you think you forgot your keys locked in the car.
Not the kind of scary like when you think one of your friends finally decided to leave this world for good.
Not the kind of scary that is sharp needle point followed by the release of realization.

No.
Life is not that kind of scary.

It's the kind of scary that follows you closely.
It's the kind of scary that shakes you awake at night just to let you stare back at its void.
It's the kind of scary that sits on your shoulder and taunts you for every waking second that it can take you when it pleases.
It's the kind of scary that pulls your blood from your arteries.
It's the kind of scary that revels in the sight of your tears.

It's the kind of scary that lingers, persists, torments, and never, ever leaves.

My body shivered from the heat of the water as I nervously awaited the words the would slice me up and build me down.
You cut and sutured all in one move of your hand.
It was the last thing I exactly needed
and I thought I had died and stayed on earth.

It's winter again.

Bustling malls
and second thought decisions
lead to some coffee comfort in the cold.

Whipped cream
and twelve strings
keep us mesmerized as the wind blows.

Lucky lasts
and cracked windows
as we sing our renditions to the sky.

The sun sets
before the good day is over
the dark will hold smiles.

All the pieces
fit perfectly in place.
These people; perfection and stories.

The cold this year
doesn't seem so harsh
and not so long as before.

I’m wearing the sweatshirt you cried in
and I laugh to myself as I imagine you apologizing
for the salt stains on the cuff.

I’d say I forgive you,
like it was actually something
needing to be forgiven.

And maybe you’d believe me this time.
Small steps.

And maybe you’ll believe me next time.
Proper goals.

I've never been addicted to anything.
A couch and a beer is home with you.
Cigarillo smoke is better when shared.

But I've never been addicted to anything.
Your skin electrifies my senses.
I hallucinate your voice when my mind is free.

Well… I can quit when ever I want.
Your lips make me shake at night.
Your eyes give me the nods.

I just don’t want to right now.
I’ll fight all the demons
for another bowl of you.

Anything, anything for another hit.
Your curves are crystal.
Your smile is nicotine.  

I've never been addicted to anything.
But my mind is full of the thought
of what cold turkey would do to me.

I drove for ten hours out of the last 36.

Something about those 300 miles made it seem like we would never come back.
I saw more in that garden level apartment than in the wild of Yosemite.
We were intoxicated by the city. Filled with wishes and dreams…and *****.
"I never want to leave." and I think a part never will.
One more place to call to us.

It rained through the halls.
Over door thresholds and under Christmas tree lights it spilled.
Funny how the sun light changes things.
Like picking up a full glass to find it's half empty.
Something expected to have weight is blown away by the wind.

26 hours have never held more until now.

Meet me before the sun comes up.
Before that ball of hydrogen dissolves,

what ever fog led us here in the night.

You spoke and wept and yelled.
The mist offered a chance
to see into your gaurded depths.

We found disclosure in the bottom

of a bottle again, but in the day

we’re distant for the knowledge.