I remember when all our guns were sticks
I remember when pine cones were grenades
I remember when we always got back up
And war was just a game we played

Suicide should only be committed once*
So why the hell do I try every couple months
Something's up with the water
I don't feel the rush like I used to
There's no happiness tutorials on YouTube
I laced together my shoes, through them on a wire and convinced myself to sit and think
The kitchen sink's dishes stink
But you are what you eat and I had a helping of insane

Low key lowlife, broke and high under a spotlight
No ice so there's more drink at the drive thru window with my eyes suspiciously low
I'm ridiculously close to laughing what's left of my mind away
I forgot how it feels to feel fine today
It's either *love or hate and there's no areas of gray

*I wish I had a thousand hours to sit down and figure out exactly what the **** that I've been running from
I wish someone would stick around long enough to identify with the place that I'm coming from

Oh, I'm being eaten
By a boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,
And I don't like it--one bit.
Well, what do you know?
It's nibblin' my toe.
Oh, gee,
It's up to my knee.
Oh my,
It's up to my thigh.
Oh, fiddle,
It's up to my middle.
Oh, heck,
It's up to my neck.
Oh, dread,
It's upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . . .

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

See how it all returns. Circling vultures.
Grief like a dull blade hacking.
Rend ourselves apart. Dingy heartbreaks.
Delicate stringency of stale perfume.
Dead kisses. Final whimpers of regret.
Quicksilver of light turns to sheets of lead.
Gunmetal pall falls across the bed.
Whispered passion breaks against life.
Night sighs succumb to bleak morning.
Time to turn the page to emptiness.
Gray days of walking away. Lonely streets.
You know this will all happen again,
men full of anger and women of pain.
Where do you walk to when you walk away?
You walk out of yesterday into today.

mce

I have heard rockets and mortars fall,
the screams of wounded men, heard it all.
In my deepest sleep, still those soldiers creep
into my dreams and beg me recall
that they once lived and still they exist
as more than names on a dusty list,
but each one a soul, though no longer whole,
whose memories must always persist.

Omnia *** pretio.

The door slammed
like a gunshot.

His life had
just left him.

No respite.

Now he had
to learn
how to live
with a whole
new life.

It's always
something.

I wish I could draw hands
There's something remarkable about yours
When you are holding your camera
Or your coffee cup
Or when you lean
against the kitchen door frame
In dawn light
One handed grasp on the pullup bar
And the flow of your forearms
And the way your sleep heavy eyes
Reach mine

I look at you like a painting
I love but can never afford to touch
Walking to the gallery every day
Trying to memorize
The way the light bends around it
Wondering if i can talk the artist
Into giving it to a loving home
For the 50 bucks in my pocket.
I dont have much
...
But this broken mind
And that youve filled it.
Yesterday,
I bartended in the summer rain
And could only remember
that you said
You love to dance.
Nobody
Not even the rain
Compares to you