some dreams are made for diplomat's sons
some hands are not attached to potters
i have two of those hands
i have no potter's hands
i only have two hands

to hold all the wrong things
from hurt to hurtful
to wrinkle their fingers
like caved in ribs of an umbrella
that will not withstand

or press in the growing eyebag
i have no potter's hands
and it mostly makes me feel bad

One at a time
Guys in bands leave Shannon’s
Apartment every other Sunday morning
They walk down the green carpeted steps
With scowls on their faces

They walk through the black iron gates
That shut Shannon in behind them
As they walk off, better places to go,

Shannon smokes her thirties away
On a third story balcony
She stares out on the black iron gates that shut her in

The fog will never lift in her highschool parking lot
Some short lived September through October
There had been no brighter sun
Than those mornings in her highschool parking lot
Except for the days it rained


Roland Gift had convinced her
She had been so duped.

there are things
i can't do anymore
i've been doing all those things
a lot lately

just can't stop
every night the songs are played
i've had enough but i would just
have to do nothing or do something else

i'de like to be more descript
but every night
i inhale something lit
and scott gimple just knows
he is a better writer than Robert Kirkman
every time he kills off the main character,
the most integral part of the story,
the whole reason for the story in the first place

how hard can you fight
without the plot armour
that could really be useful right now

more moth holes in the sweaters
as the cost of living costs
the cost of living lives

dark lights never shut up
for a purpose they don't serve
everything for the wrong one

always leaving you with that feeling
tomorrow's going to be a really bad day

Happy, happy April Fool’s Day,
Make it a good one
Search terms searching the night away
I have gone too far away

Nothing to breathe
Pleasure and the fume
Fists of a clock
Entering a dark room

When you were younger, you sort of looked like
Lou Reed looked when he was young
Maybe not up close, I was too far away
It was too hard to see
You were all I could see
That's just who you were to me

So many, so meaningless
I could not ever make you exist
I should have kept it zipped
But I turned the vocals up just a little bit

I should have been more kind
But not to you,
I should not have lacked so much in empathy
For all those suffering around me
I should have kept them better company
But it was too hard to see
You were all I could see

so brave
so thirsty
so scott gimple

as you boldly go
declining the standard advice
instead you can drink too much
at the christmas party

so brave
so thirsty
so about to bring up bill cosby

to your co-worker's fat and loudly still racist husband
as you sit near the nice black lady who works
at the front desk, smiles at you every morning
and orders all the good stuff for the breakroom

pioneer
pilgrim

lost little children

Rachel had too much to cry about
do you even know the great amount

waiting on a true existence
ditched at the bar by some girl named valerie
cell phone, white dress
arms i don't want around me

so many sweet things never going to be
way on down the line, they are too far behind
rain or shine,
weather's been looking kind of lonely out there

two tiny feet standing on a fountain, light as air
where a kiss on the cheek seems a little unfair
in pictures of what must have felt so weightless

could have been a little more gracious
not just some harmful acquaintance

another black hole to fall through
another round on janis joplin,
so many sad times for little girl blue

so many in a million
moment i met you
doing nothing for you
                                 
son of my mourning
son of your own right hand
downpour's been pouring
falling at your command
falling like stars made of sharp chinese

i'm so tired of waiting on all these sweet things
do you even know the great amount
sad eyed Rachel had so much to cry about

arms i don't want around me
so many sweet things never going to be
way on down the line, they are too far behind