How did it feel
to be so close to
civilization
yet so far away?

There was once a boy who almost drowned
inside his own self pity and doubt.
But if you could ever get him to smile,
he would sit in his car and whistle a while.
He whistled Coldplay, he whistled Muse,
he whistled notes only birds could use.
He whistled the sweetest, saddest songs,
that made you wish you could sing along.
There was a time that came one day
when I sent that whistling boy away.
He almost drowned, but then he was saved
by the only girl that made him cave.
So when he came back, there I met him,
there, in his car, with the lights all dim.
And there he played his Muse and Coldplay
And there he whistled until the end of his days.
It reminded me of how life should be,
a sweet and complicated melody.
He taught me to whistle, the best gift of all
a gift I can always quickly recall.
I realized then that we'd always be friends,
until he whistled no more at the end.
But for now, we'll sit and whistle a while,
I'll do my best to get him to smile.
I look forward to when I see him soon,
so he can whistle to me life's beautiful tune.

So what does it mean
when I cannot find
anyone who thinks
like me?

I remember the moment she was done.
I was sitting in the middle seat of the truck, how appropriate.
It was the most excruciating silent car ride of my life.
The kind of silent that shouts volumes.
There was no hesitation when we reached the destination.
She leaped out of the car, with her bag, with all her things, with all her belongings
And proceeded to slam the door in our faces
Even though he said her name
He called her name
He shouted her name.
She closed the door forever on what could have been.
Sometimes I wonder what it would've been like had she stayed inside the car with me.
But she didn't. She left.
And even though eventually she came back, she never really came back.

I remember the moment she was done.
But mostly, I remember sitting right next to my father in the car,
As his foot plunged on the pedal
As his tears began falling
As his mutterings increased
As his face crumbled into grief
As I felt mine do the same.

You're the full moon that I look at
Bursting bright with your moon beams.
You're my very own Texas weather,
Because it's never what it seems.
You're my mind when I am sleeping,
Filling me with lucid dreams.
You're my ocean on a sunny day,
When it glistens, when it gleams.
You're the library card I misplace,
Yet can always be redeemed.
You're my favorite fuzzy sweater
Held together by the seams.
You and I, we go together,
And we make the perfect team.

Hazy cigarettes
smoking is quite bad for you
light me up up up

I can never linger
it isn't written in my genes or encoded in my blood
in fact I simmer like a deep-brewing fire
only the wind on my cheeks
& the scenery whizzing by can stifle my flames
whimsical indecisive fickle
no commas can contain me
I am this metaphor & that simile
I am those paradoxical adjectives & I don't create irony
I am the irony
free spirit & old soul I have been labeled both
whatever you like to call it I can never linger
a blessing or burden either way
the loveliest blooms always depart from the fields the fastest
you have never seen a fairy because they carry on & on
carry on so quickly
I am the soul of your lost father & I am the nostalgia of your dead mother
I am all things mystical & majestic
the weeping willow tree by the lake & the lightning that smites it
the strength you misplaced is found deep within me
wherever I go love will seek me out & find me
but I can never be contained & I can never linger
I only wish to "burn, burn, burn like roman candles across the night"
so please
do not ask me to stay