Inspiration arrives in the wee hours of the morning
Like a fresh snowfall that won't stick
Teasing, tickling my brain
Inducing a rumbling hunger for snow cream and chapped cheeks
A floating half-cadence
Stinging like the stale metallic aftertaste of the cavity I can't see
But I know I need filled
Like the hole you left when you were digging behind my back
Smiling beneath my feet and I fell a little deeper
Like you did into me under the Everclear
Night sky after we dropped
Altering our minds in a place we called home
In the company of our tribal community diving head-first into pursuit of personhood
By the hand of a tedium spring and temporary cushion
Where the new members must've watched behind closed lids
Before another night like the previous nights consisting of little sleep.
There's an assignment to complete
Suppressed by the urge to go for a night run to strengthen those thighs
I didn't intend to open, I swear to God
I never intended anything to result in this
Unresolved half cadence in the i-V-i progression
That I didn't compose on the theory test
I didn't pass today because I didn't finish.
There exists no focus to the wisps of ideas slapping these cerebral walls
Like lingering tendrils of broken thread and splattered paint on a drunk summer night.
It's too chilly now on the off days and perfect on the on's
So I will wait, patiently, more or less
To avoid dropping the wisps and distasteful run-on sentences
Into your feigning palms willing to grasp me again
Because what the hell else would I do?
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Inspiration arrives in the wee hours of the morning
Like a fresh snowfall that won't stick
Teasing, tickling my brain
Inducing a rumbling hunger for snow cream and chapped cheeks
A floating half-cadence
Stinging like the stale metallic aftertaste of the cavity I can't see
But I know I need filled
Like the hole you left when you were digging behind my back
Smiling beneath my feet and I fell a little deeper
Like you did into me under the Everclear
Night sky after we dropped
Altering our minds in a place we called home
In the company of our tribal community diving head-first into pursuit of personhood
By the hand of a tedium spring and temporary cushion
Where the new members must've watched behind closed lids
Before another night like the previous nights consisting of little sleep.
There's an assignment to complete
Suppressed by the urge to go for a night run to strengthen those thighs
I didn't intend to open, I swear to God
I never intended anything to result in this
Unresolved half cadence in the i-V-i progression
That I didn't compose on the theory test
I didn't pass today because I didn't finish.
There exists no focus to the wisps of ideas slapping these cerebral walls
Like lingering tendrils of broken thread and splattered paint on a drunk summer night.
It's too chilly now on the off days and perfect on the on's
So I will wait, patiently, more or less
To avoid dropping the wisps and distasteful run-on sentences
Into your feigning palms willing to grasp me again
Because what the hell else would I do?
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