Celsius to Fahrenheit
they took each other's measure.
While you walked half the distance,
I got lost along the way.
I succumbed to ******* frostbite--
it was not a point of pleasure.
Meet me at minus 40
if you've got a thing to say.

Hang icicles from buildings.
Hang a frown on one long face.
Hung my hat on losing hands
                                            we'll
hang up halfway through this call
and I'll directly start to hate this place.
Heap reasons on these question marks.
Hot coffee, honey cruller.
Split the check, we'll split the difference--
               Celsius to Fahrenheit
       I fought through the conversion

Then I fought my way into a much worse place.

I think I'm fine with
          kickin' over church pews
desperate to find where my rituals hide.
Ghost stories never taught me nothin' but runnin'
               and hidin'--
          Tonight they'll be exorcised.

By the end of this year,
I hope they won't recognize me;
all free and clear
from old, sour misfires.
Tired of sad sermons I been tellin' myself
so I'll shelve 'em and try to let myself debride.

I think I'm fine with
          forgetting the words
to this tired parable I've spent too much time with.
Ghost stories never teach ya nothin' but runnin'
               and hidin'--
          from yourself and your best lived life.

Blue screen
behind a snowy blur
          Blizzard outside
        cold silence in here.
Forgot
the weight of syllables
          On channel 2,
  I'm disconnected and numb.

               With all the eloquence
               of a bitter, frozen smile,
          Let me draw a map
                          with mismatched memories
               With all the subtlety
             of a fumbled operation.
          Let me trace the tale
                     down unstitched avenues.

This year
I'll try for something like real feeling.
Ghoulish nostalgia's only eating me alive.
And if I could only take my lumps and leave 'em...

...leave 'em far behind,
I might start moving on.
               Onto something
                       current,
               something warmer
                 that's enduring.

Let me try to trace my tale
down these unstitched avenues.

And I'll get back to you.

You were leaving
     with the first of the Springtime thaw.
I glued my feet and
     now I'm stuck and you know that's all
               we ever found
          we knew how to do--
was just say fake "goodbyes,"
practice "I'll miss you's!"

We can sleep through our dreams
or die standing up
on the paths of same footprints'
           same old sidewalks.
But the equinox came and you went nowhere
                        quick.
Sick of saying, "It's fine here..."
                        Think
                    I'm just sick
'cuz the healthiest ones hated us
       and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

I was leaving
     we both knew that I wouldn't get far
before retreating
     to you and to this asphalt
               I've always walked.
               We always knew how
to just fake fake "You're fine's."
Swallow fermented growls.

We'll just sleep through these dreams
of packing our stuff.
Write our hopes on punched tickets--
           can't afford the bus.
When the equinox comes and we're still here--No
                              ****?--
We'll be convinced it's good here.
                         Think
                  we're just sick.
'Cuz the healthiest ones hated us
        and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Stick together, squeeze the time in
with the snow falling down.
Do what we'd never get away with
when the Summer comes around,
       When the cops patrol the streets
              that the city won't plow

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Got 2 fingers for this night
2 bloodshot eyes on the town's small size.
I'll take this walk on shaky toes,
take 1 more bottle for the icy road.

3 years, 3 months and countless ghosts,
some angry friends, a long walk home.
     I stumble down Wyoming Street
   and ball 2 fists inside my coat.

                      Stunted
I tripped while running in place,
bit my tongue and cut my nose up--
    ****** my pretty, spiteful face.
                   And I'm just
                       punting
and slurring while I beg for pardons.
Forgive my weak and sour heart--
                  didn't mean it
when I said "Goodbye and **** this place."

I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
popping joints and twisting knees,
yellow eyes and dagger teeth;
full moon makes my lungs freeze.

When memories claim my mind,
can't see through greyscaled eyes.
Sorry to waste your time
          but I seem to have misplaced mine.

Hundred questions for myself.
Emptied 15, placed them on my shelf.
0 answers inside each 1.
Shapeshifter's sorry that I killed your fun.

3 years, 3 months. 1 long walk home.
I gambled with these dicey ghosts.
I spilled some drinks and said some things.
Grab my coat and hope you can forgive me.

                      Stunted
I zipped my leaking lips up.
Bit my tongue -- I'd made no progress
     Hung my petty, spiteful face.
                  And I'm just
                      punting,
but could you forget my infractions?
                 didn't mean it
when I said, "Goodbye and **** this place."

I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
Claws bared and licking teeth.
So, please just don't mind me
as I walk out on unsure feet.

Sorry to waste your time,
but I seem to have misplaced mine.

I've been a feature here for four years now.
You're an armchair or a doormat
Once you've been around
awhile.

I wanted fresh breath and a brand new face.
Maybe a companion just to
take up space beside
my side.

But the "EXIT" light was on too long.
"Eventually, they heed it or they just become
fading notes in a song
that we forgot we sung."

Or at least that's what you told me...

Or at least that's what I'll write here...

And what about you...?

It's a tangling grid of street names I
     keep
tangled on my tongue
3 inches under my eyes
     (They ask directions).

An end result of a series of
     hasty,
maybe-good decisions
I made 4 years ago.
     (Seek validation).

And what about you...?

There's a comfort here we can't escape,
take two for granted
and call to cancel coffee dates.

There's an ease that breeds friendships like ours,
Convenient and seasonal;
Friendships that really aren't.

"Rose Park" names our neighborhood
A few blocks slant, we prob'ly shouldn't
talk today...
Similar coordinates
A useless map. Mistake by any
other name...

Second chances, we won't get them.
And I guess we don't deserve them.

The State's an acci-
     dental sigh.
The town's a too-comfortable lie.
And you, I guess
are just another neighbor of mine.

The night will corrode
Our smiles will erode.
It's been a long time coming down the track I s'pose.
The weather's finally warming
but I'm cold, ya know.
          And I know--
     the season's gonna change.

So peel back
          the streetlit sky of a Sunday night.
Reveals black.
          One empty gut, one clouded mind.
Got a fistful of pocket lining says I'm right.
Wrong way. Left turn. I'll be alright
          without you.
     I know my way home.

One talk at a time,
I finally know.
Out of words. Out of time. A frown growing slow.
The temperatures are turning,
turn my back and go
          'cuz I know
     that you already have.

I've always known
I would walk out alone.
Had to come out swinging for the quick K.O.
I hate the ******* heat;
you're sick of the snow.
          And you know--
     My reasons. Your excuse.

So peel back
          the ******* smiles of a Winter night.
Reveals black.
          Your toothless mouth, this empty fight.
Got a fistful of pocket lining, walk all night.
Wrong way. Left turn. I guess I was right
          about you.
     I know my way home.

          Without you
     I know my way home.
          Without you.