They say
He is perfect
Though she
Will always leave

There is a water bottle
on the side of route 3.
It's blue and it's plastic
and it's ***** and old.

Reusable, but unused.

Just a piece of garbage
lying on the side of the road.

I look at that water bottle every day.

I take comfort in knowing it's there.
Through every season of
the last year and a half it
has remained in the same spot.

Sun beating down on it,
leaves gathered around,
covered in snow,
it stays where it began.

Whatever music I'm listening to,
whatever emotions I'm feeling,
through elation from a grade
or depression from a breakup,
the water bottle is there.

What a concept,
what a constant,
what a weird thing to notice
on the side of the road.

But there it is every day,
a ***** blue water bottle,
unmoving,
and unimposing,
but such a big part
of my daily routine.

The man who lives in a mailbox
Sings his song alone
The rent he says is reasonable
And he likes the tone.

He sings:
I possess but what I have
That time does not remove.
All the castles all the kings
Are never here alone.
Brave parades and cheerful tunes
Do not the truth disprove.
We are each a single soul
And never here alone.
Never here alone.

His song is sung to passersby
Always much surprised
To pass a mailbox, hear a song
Coming from inside.

He sings:
I possess but what I have
That time does not remove.
All the castles all the kings
Are never here alone.
Brave parades and cheerful tunes
Do not the truth disprove.
We are each a single soul
And never here alone.
Never here alone.

Now, some protest, they say he’s mad
They tell him he is wrong
And some ignore his choice of home
And listen to his song.

He sings:
I possess but what I have
That time does not remove.
All the castles all the kings
Are never here alone.
Brave parades and cheerful tunes
Do not the truth disprove.
We are each a single soul
And never here alone.
Never here alone.

Comes into my room as quick as light. Love.
Turned on with no fright.
Laughing and loving not a care in the world. In my arms you curled.

Strange feelings set the mood.
My love you feel the need to elude.
Now in a flash have you changed.
Somehow your feelings towards me have rearranged.    Selfish

Struggling to keep you gripped tight.
You tell me it's not right.
I sit here telling myself its not over,
Fearing the worst you let me cry on your shoulder.

No words to be said
Just tears  I have shed
I stand, sit, lie down as I plead
Asking every explanation I can bleed

Crushing blows I take away
Fire to darkness you play
Your light flickers in my heart as I twitch
You're unpredictable like a light switch...

my flowers are about to die
now the sun is falling later
& i’m getting
everybody high
because
everybody wants
to get high.

april comes fast, every single year.
there are always distractions.
i need a certain kind of fuel to start
the flame inside my being.

my words are a sort of music
which hold their own without
a melody or tune to hum:

exhale & your world is enveloped in color. our scars match up like we’re in unison together. my refrain is tired. chorus outstretched. she’s waiting for something worth waiting for ;

tie my bones together with piano wire.

*brixtonbell.com