One step leaves
civilization behind
anxieties reduced
wearing proper shoes
plenty of water
walk down soft paths
after awhile these
trails fade
making way for what is really outside

there are no boundaries
no roads
not a convenience store in sight

I can only speak so much for miles
of repeating desert. Climbing mountains
and feeling like god on top of a rock.
So much I've never known
is revealed to me, because
I can see for miles,
and miles,
and miles.

Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.

Introduce me to the shadows
I'm not afraid of the dark


Teach me to love the animal
not to run from it's bark


walk with me in the rain
without sheltering me more


let me fly upon on your wings
lead me to freedom, don't close the door


hold my hand
don't chain my soul


I have a spirit
don't touch it's controls


love me for who I am
not for who I may become


show me tomorrow
allow me to feel the sun


don't try to save me
or spare me pain


teach me I'm strong enough
to survive the stormy rain


I wasn't searching for a hero
to make my life complete


or someone to shelter me
when life has me beat


I was looking for love
don't bury it in your need


you need to feel superior
walk beside.. dont lead


For with your support
I can withstand the pain


and yet if you shelter me
I'll never learn to enjoy the rain

So let's add another numbed night to this comatose plight.
Searching for something meaningful at the bottom of bottles,
And striving for amnesia through entangling bodies.
This is the dance of the dead.
A decadent display of flesh and famine.
A hunger so primal that we've lost our appetite for
The more filling of feelings.
You're tugging at my heart strings,
But she's ripping off my clothes.
And the opposite embodied is a worse torture than most
Would care to know.
But I do have a thing for pain,
And you're the object of my infliction.
In this scar making moment, I'll succumb to that addiction.
But your mark is growing thin, love.
And the evidence will fade.
Your territory’s waning and you have no stake to claim.
These are the lies we lead in this life or something like it.
Barely scraping by until the day turns to night.
My calendar is filling and yours is bound to burst.
You can pencil me in if you're bored enough.
I'll accept through the hangover and give you sleepy eyes,
Knowing full well we'll both end up in another's bed tonight.
She'll touch my chest though it does not heave for her.
And I'll take a shot to make this feeling better.
She'll want to spoon but I'll push her to "your side".
And I'll say I'll call tomorrow, but when I speak, I tend to lie.
I'm taking up your offer on this latest lifestyle,
Where cowardly nonchalance is the most fitting attire,
And the heart that's been hemmed to my sleeve,
Is the most out-of-date accessory.
This game is treacherous, this game called "love".
My only wonder is: when we will stop playing ourselves.

1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

fragile and self absorbed I've spent a lot of time kneeling
but I've come to find honesty in admitting fear in the new things I'm feeling
there's something about moons and stars being beautiful but out of reach
that I've always found appealing
and I have drown in all my futile pursuits chasing whales into the ocean
but never with my written words, those pros are a dreamers innate commotion
emotional,  combustible,  percussive,  explosions

I've­ survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives me just a little less than it takes

so my words now are few and chosen carefully
and my actions are my attempts at explaining those tangibly

every valentine's bouquet I'm sending
all the anniversary dollars I'm spending
each minute a loving ear I'm lending
but if two people are truly in love, there can be no happy
ending
Hemingway, that's from Snows of Kilimanjaro
an elegant reminder that we've one less day together with every new tomorrow

so I try and explain old emotions as best I know how
if only I could have known in those times the truths I know now

redundant, I'm a record with a deep scratch
tired, I'm the head of a burnt match
useless, I'm a diamond necklace with a missing clasp
bitter, and perpetuating the despair, never letting go of the holes unpatched
hopeful, I'm a dog kicked that keeps coming back

I've survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives back just a little less than it takes
I can see that in the wrinkles carving roads in my face by the mile
and I noticed that there's more lines where I scowl than where I smile
duct tape and regrets I've spent a lot of time kneeling
it's probably time to apolgize and stop reeling
but eating my own words sounds uncomfortably filling
so I guess I've said a lot of things that I'll never have the chance for repealing

somehow I've always sensed it since I was very young
that I would always be looking back as I rocketed forward
humming the songs that were already sung
reading old greeting card’s they've forgotten and feeling tortured

fragile and self absorbed I've got a lotta duct tape
survived a lot of falls without becoming fake
but somehow living always gives me
a little less than it takes

I'll wait here on the shelf
I'll wait for you to see me
I'll wait for you to pick me up
I'll wait for you to use me
I'll wait and wait and
I'll wait some more
I'll wait for you forever
If that will make you happy
I used to be your favorite
I was always in your hand
But now I'm just an artifact
Of an old forgotten land