Dancing on the drink stained tables
Because there's no more room
Out on the crowded flimsy floor,
That is uneven and *****,
Drinks are spilled, then replaced
And smoke lingers in the air,
But what does it matter anyway?
There's music filling the old room,
Music that's frightening to the old,
But still too much for the young.
In here,there is no snowstorm,
In here, God is alive and it's 1955.
The fiddles don't sing, they howl.
The storytellers don't speak, they rave.
A hiding place to wish away anything.

-Jamie F. Nugent

I still write you
As a part of everything
A thousand characters
With the same heart in my mind
This heart of mine
Beats in time with yours
You'll be my everything
My ceilings and my floors
And my bed
Where I fall asleep to dream
You'll be my love
My understanding of god

Dearest Zelda
I could give my life
And it never could be as much
As you deserve
So I'll give you the next one
I'll give you all the stars I come from

I still dream you
I still am thankful
You found a way to save me
When nothing ever could
The beginning and the end
Of everything
I love you
I am you
And we are the rain
Born from our tears before
We fall together
Holding hands

Sweet Isabella
I keep on throwing parties
That I can't enjoy
Because you're not there
And one day I won't need wine to drink
One day I won't need drugs to get high

I may be great
Gatsby dies for Daisy
My soul can't be complete
If not for you
Its as though our broken pieces
Put together make a perfect whole

I hope you hear the hopes in my words
That they speak to you
I hope you feel the sorrow in my handwriting
That I'm not with you now

I ruminate on
my failed affairs
I really am a mess of state
but a well maintained disaster
With clothes crisp
and shoes of leather
a Prada bag slouched
shedding Glitter as a scavenger’s trail

seven billion people
yet I manage
to ram together puzzle pieces
with mismatched contours
and hope for it to work

seven billion people
yet I manage
to fear a faithless future, aghast abandonment
carving my present,
a relentless sculptor

seven billion people
yet I manage
to severe portions of my entity
my soul, my being
and gift them
waiting on exalted reception
only for smirks and Smirnoff

So here I am
the mess of state
On the 14th day of the 2nd month
Trying to figure this out yet again
Yet again

I’ll find you in a coffee shop
In some corner of a bustling street
Staring into cracks and crevices
Of the words in a book
Amongst a pool of phone screens

I’ll find you hiding
in the majestic wonders of Planet Earth
one corner or the other
Shuffling a camera
Slouched sloppily on broad shoulders
Capturing moments of clarity

I’ll find you deep
within the depths of the ocean
wading amongst the corals
submersed in the adrenaline of life
meditating its mystic origins

I’ll find you perched
on a rock in the midst of barren land
watching the sunset
scrawling in some bound blank pages
holding back tears
just as I am now

I’ll find you my love
just you wait