I took the train had a good trip on my way back i met a woman but i drank too much and threw up straight whiskey.

How's that for shitz & giz? HA!

I want to write a poem on how I feel about you. I really do. I doubt you'd hate it, just because that's really not you. You're always supportive of my dumb decisions and the choices I make within them. You've always been sweetest when it comes to...anything so why would this be any different? But what do you say to the girl that takes your breath away? To the girl in your life that makes every day with her seem to not be long enough and make every day without her make me not feel strong enough and it's hard to focus on things. I want to tell that girl that I'd do anything for her and I hope she feels the same because I love the feeling that that idea brings, and I love the way she talks, and she can talk about anything. So what do you do for the girl that has given you everything you've wanted and asked for nothing but time in return? That's a question I need to ask her, and I hope I have a lot of time to learn.

now final loss
is speaking close
i don't know how
but here it is
and fallen clouds
that cannot float
lie scattered on the ground

i look up at the
brazen curve

the ancient cage
of stifled gleams
beats into me

and just before the end
it's all a dream
i cannot seem to
understand

the fire of my heart is hot
but coldness sits inside
and rots
the heartache

why the places that i see?
what is here for me?

beyond the ashen hill
i cannot find
the final resting place
i've left behind

before the void comes can you tell
which way the wind blows

or is it just
a silent stillness
on the land
of iron hills and fallen clouds
and solid sky above?

tell me the answers
that i seek to know

perhaps i'll see
the secrets of
my mystery

or else i'll find in something stolen
answers for a broken mind
to feast on
in the day

at night they ****


but trust me, i don't want to die

broken shards of tempered glass
scattered across the parking lot
flare excrement in little piles
give the children something to poke at while they wait
heated voices from behind the Datsun
as she screeches disapproval
frantically explaining the bind
a momentary loss of concentration can bring
expressing innocence and professing innocents
tears spill as reality takes hold
the bus is the only option now –

A hint of madness
A touch of strange
And i have lost the way
A pinch of lonely
A dash of fear
And i wonder how i came here

Well, what a week, full of revelation
Enough to stir this talk of revolution
Makes your hackles turn on end
Then send you round the bend
The southern gentry have found oil
Right beneath their derriere boil
Now most of us on this golden isle
Need not worry about this pile
Those who wear weekend country tweed,
Built their fortunes from housing greed
Have already decided
That it will be one sided
They’ll say it’s theirs, by rights
And if we argue, will read our last rites
The South will declare independence
In certainty of their full ascendance
Over the outer reaches of this nation
They pounded into servitude, by taxation
And if we have the nerve to debate, I’ll be bound
They’ll leave it horded in the ground,
Then blame the anti frackin’ hound
Now I may need a political re - education
In a 1984 establishment for rehabilitation
But I can see it coming a five-nation island
Southland, Wales, Scotland, N. Ireland,

And the Detritus

She tears up the pages,
Just as her eyes tear as well.
Everything she's done,
It means nothing.

But that's alright.
All the tears, all the anger,
It won't do anything.

So again and again,
She'll stand again.
Wipe away the tears,
And put on a Sasha-Fierce smile.

She'll grin and laugh all at the right times,
Tell us all those puns,
Making sure we are always laughing and smiling, and most inportantly,
Okay.
Even as she crumbles like a cookie,
Sweet and loveable.

But I swear to you,
There's too much to her,
No matter how many times we try to understand her,
She'll always slip away right when we think we got her.
Alone but in the most crowded room there is.
Metallica will play,
Children of Bodom swims around her mind,
Everything about her is its own music.

So distinct,
So catchy,
I don't think I'll ever be able to get it out of my head anytime soon.