It’s not so scary down here
Rock bottom has a queer feel
Pressures of a reality you deny
Become too obviously real
Eyes pierce the veil seeking light yet
You’re no longer the passive observer
Down here you’re forced to face yourself
Don’t look away lest you be the loser

"The simple truth is that the truth does not exist;
it all depends on a person's point of view"

Didn't sleep much
on suicide watch I tell my coworkers
being I good friend they think
who'd a thought the friend I was watching was me

I hear the frogs are singing,
meadows anointed in lyrical
benediction.
In a golden hour the fields are
sacrosanct - waiting for the hard water in a
drying fellowship:
keep your sights between the swirling moons -
the terminals extend to where we know not, for
the moisture may never come.
The song unfolds upon the face of
all the waters, the
fire apart from its origins and exiled -
something man may recognize within himself.
Sudden genesis and then divided, strewn
thin across the planting rows.
in the womb a germination abiding in peace
under the shadow of the Almighty.
then a birth into this world:
We heard the frogs were singing,
and saw the dogs were bleeding and
worrying the bones.
The gravel in my heart is enough to build
1000 chapels,
houses for worship without sacrifice.
So I sat upon the setting sun
counting my mistakes and
crossing my heart, for
long and hard is the way that from out of hell
leads up to light
and right now
all I smell is gun-smoke.
But the Heavens, they pale and deepen and pale and deepen,
and I recall that the devil hid the Trinity inside my heart.
I really did believe my destiny lay at the end of a braided rope.
But I remembered there is no
resurrection without a crucifixion.
Somewhere up ahead in all that dark and
all that cold
my ancestors are waiting by the fire.

Missing the risks of angst in your growing states,
Asking for more events, more moments, more
Defining traits,
An access to adulthood with pure innocence attached,
A lip sealed love note passed around to everyone before your beauty,
They all knew,
7AM would be the warmest, yet calmest part of morning,
Still stuck in mourning,
I wish I spoke more
Before they moved too far to hear me.
The music was never about listening,
It only took responsibility dropping
To escape back into the vibe,
Show and tell,
List the moments of your family,
Tell me about your history before 1930,
And how you managed to come to existence,
And what you miss the most.
Arcades at the back of the grocery store,
Summers I couldn’t wait to never end,
Friendships and evolution of speech,
Touch felt genuine, and not out of courtesy.
We earned the lockers, a pasty white future,
And textbooks so old,
Just to repeat history every lunch period,
“Speak from the heart”
No, speak with your love,
You’ll create waves when you skip rocks.
Fleeting,
A timeless moment of happiness,
I have it until I remember why I shouldn’t,
It does declare,
“My everything, if this time feels like it belongs in a capsule,
Bury this melodic lead behind championed trophies and campsites,
Let me know the face of my first crush,
I’ll write mistakes all through my notebook,
The boys won’t let me call it a diary,
The girls say you shouldn’t keep a journal,
Well, we’ll just call it a logbook.
Coffee’s bitter,
Everything looks like the past,
While my presence is just future tense tension,
Who, me?
I’d rather represent silence with error,
I’ll dance to whatever I’d like,
And depression just sounds like a Fray song over muddled rain,
That radio compression makes every cassette sound fragile,
You’ll miss it.
You’ll miss it so bad.”

Boys get louder to express their feelings,
Unmatured matchmakers,
To lunch tables clamoring over last night’s news,
And tomorrow’s homework,
Order and stability,
It’s just one house,
And we’re all chipping at the paint,
Things we let go, caused issues in our fondness,
But we still had festivals, parties, and experiencing our favorite MP3s as a live audience.

I might not ever return,
Let’s take these, our foundational stones,
And not forget why tossing them in the water,
Felt like the time right before the streetlights came on,
And our favorite TV show rewound Season 3, Episode 5.

A closure to answers,
A burden to ask questions,

Not a care in the world but my missing Link Cable,
And a liability to not be late,

My friends will leave if I don’t show up right after school.
We’ve got the newest trading cards,
And one time will be the last time,
But the last time will feel like just another time.