my legs are tangled in the sheets dangling into the deep vastness of my bed
my head rests on a pillow keeping me just above the course chaos of comforter
my hair is a delicate mess thrown about the dauntless duvet
my hand intertwines the blanket, a desperate grip for salvation
my mind wonders into the murky abyss of eventide
so I sleep with the lights on

For the record, I suppose it should be stated I lost my soul in Vegas.
I would love to go back there and find it among those glittering lights and buffet tables of never-ending artful desserts.
It's funny that all I really remember are those pretty desserts and fried mashed potatoes.
I want those things back.

I'm like a raver with those lights.
I want to consume them.
I want to glow in my pores.
Not the cliched glow that wraps itself around the impregnated many,
but the glow that comes from sitting next to neon for too long.
That it could somehow stain you.
Rub off like fairy dust on skin.
That I could fly away due to its energy or wishful thinking.

Take me back to Vegas,
where they still hand that out for free by the boatload.
I need not gamble.
I need not glad-hand.
I would simply sit idly by the buzzing of pinks and blues and greens and reds.
And me and those cheap 1920's lights will have a moment,
a moment I can share with the cocktail waitress who asks me for the third time if I'm sure I don't need a little refresher drink.

broken souls slump against battered brick walls
the avenue drowning in cheap perfume
drawing in the tired
slick pavement melts the neon lights, bathing the cold street in red reflections

she puffs on a cigarette
smoke clearing her head as it fills her lungs
her lips taste are made of whiskey and a million well kept secrets
her smile never reveals too much
but she has learned not to be afraid
she has learned to keep her head up
she sighs and straightens her back
it’s showtime

i have a soft spot for
tough times, i said from my stomach,
pouring out thick-red wine,
dusty lights and heavy air, breathless voices
and silverware clattered --
i can't be
your rock and
your punching bag, she said with one
corner of her lips curled,
reaching for her glass, a dry wooden door
shut, and the whined shriek of wind
stopped.

A mind attracted by the peaks
while the feet want to climb mountains
Divided and consumed
Lights and darkness

Voices that should have been shut
Doors that should have been closed
Demons that keep coming back
Same old habits

An ephemeral light in the night
Enough hope to carry on
Transforming loathe into love and laugh
Discovering that change is the greatest source of energy

All I see is wasted time
Wasted feelings and missed opportunities
Life passing infront of my eyes
Getting old when yesterday I was just a kid
Walking on a long road along the city lights
Wondering why I am here when there is so much more to life.

My eyes are tired
And I should sleep
But I've got too many
Promises to keep
Stay up with you
And write for the night
Out the window
Float fireflies
Like fairy lights
A heartburn need
I live to protect
An afraid little boy
Guard til death
Stay up with you
Cause you can't sleep
My eyes are tired
And I have promises to keep
You've grown so much
So many years
But you still have
Shimmery tears
I'll hold you while
You cry and sleep
Cause I have promises
I need to keep

A cooling breeze
trickling in through the window
on a humid night

the lights outside
muffled by the drizzling rain,
the rustling trees

the comfortable warmth
of my bed, this blanket,
and your arms around me.

what a pity it is

there are no stars in our sky

but we're city kids, we're the big one eight

we make do with the faraway lights