Fixed on repeat with stagnation as aural salvation
they dance to the archaic discord
entombed in relics from 1973
rooted in pensivity behind the repetition of each melody
they've heard this one before
used it to pick themselves up from the floor
an effigy to lost lovers
who used to sit beside them
smoking on the balcony
paying duty to a capitalist society
taxing themselves with each breath.

They never hear the strings breaking in silence
dancing through progressions
which paint plaintive signs of the times
disparity haunts the rhymes
but nostalgia stole the show
apathy drives ignorance
to the songs, they don't know.

Artists gorge on the decline
too many pills to swallow
so instead, they'll do another line.

Mister, misses
A snake's tongue
To sounds of hisses
A caged bird
The spoken word
Breathe life into me
Or kick me to the curb

For I am human
I am only me
Not justified by anyone
Or anything else
You may see
Picture this, picture that
I'm not looking to offend you
Or contemplate an attack

I have seen myself
From my inner spirit
As I dream the day away
To write a song, and
Perhaps someday, hear it
For music is my passion
And writing is my attraction
And as a wonderful couple
Together, they equal my
Purpose, significance, and
My call to action.

Why do I feel empty every time the music plays
Just thinking about where my fate is taking me.
I don’t feel down but I am not happy either.
Having no idea what I want and what I don’t.
This thought is bothering me.
And I’m not sure where is this coming from.
What should I do :'(
Stop listening to music when that's my only friend at the same time.

I can barely stand certain music now
Each song holds a memory locked into it
Multi-Love for instance
It's fitting that I'm burning incense right now
Because this song brings me back to December
You were into hookah at that point
The sweet and smoky scents danced around us
As your sonos speakers
Cascaded those guitar riffs into our ears
I thought you were ecstasy
But you became an addiction
And like that smoke in my lungs
You burned me instead

I can hear her singing,
that's how I know she's home.
'Hotel California' to her
man who's on the phone.
But when he hangs it up
she'll be all alone,
sitting pretty, feeling lonely,
drawing little pictures of him.

And she doesn't know it,
but I get lonely, too.
Each time I do I hide myself
inside and drink her perfume.
Then after it's all gone
I paint my ceiling blue,
light another cigarette and
sit there with the curtains pulled.

You knew it, I knew it,
I blew it all in front of you.

Don't do it. I'll do it.
Just ***** it up like I do.

It's true, it is true that
it's you, O how I wish I knew.

Light another cigarette and
sit behind these curtains, blue.

These students are walking
There headphones are blaring
Disattached from the world
Blankly they are staring

I glance at the clock
Not wanting to talk
My headphones are broken
So silent i walk

Forced to find
Something that will blind
A kind of distraction
To keep from the demons in the back of my mind

Away from the fears
The wandering ears
So evil are the demons
That bring me to tears

The looming of dept
The fear of regret
Without any distraction
I cannot forget

My headphones are broken
The demons have awoken
This silence it scares me
As do the fears i have spoken

This walk is taking forever
This heat a blistering fever
Forced to be grounded
With nothing to be a deceiver

My headphones are broken
My dark thoughts have risen
The evil I try to tuck away
Anger, pain, and fear I am stricken

Finally back in my room
Protection from the lurking doom
I blast the music as loud as i can
And the demons return to their tomb

what would i be if not for you?
i’d be alone, wandering, lovely,
but c’mon i heard your voice,
and suddenly how could i not love you?
we laugh about our stories, we laugh about their stories.
and suddenly i want to make our own.

that night, it got late, and i didn’t want to go home.
the music we were playing, i imagine you singing my words,
and staying lost in this beautiful place with you.

everything, i pretend it’s all about someone else, you think it’s all about someone else,
but everything you say falls into my next poem.
that night we watched stars. the time i told you we should do something together.
and it’s true, i’m afraid of falling for you,
but i’m even more afraid i’m not.

and when i hear your voice, it’s nostalgic, because today i have these memories
-when we didn’t know anything, when all we had was stories,
when we believe in epics and magic and hated real life,
when we were a fantasy, and now we’re a reality,
and i’m nostalgic about our old nostalgia.

i’m also afraid we’ll be just like them,
and i’ll hear another voice, and i’ll be happy, because for a second, i think it’s you,
and then i’ll remember. see?
i’m good at making this about them, because it is about them,
but really i’m hoping you’ll ask me one day, and i’ll say yes to you.
and that night, the night will grow late and we’ll lay down together and just stare upwards.

hey moon -you know that lyrics, don’t you sweetheart, oh god,
what if i said too much?
i’m so afraid you’ll never talk to me again,
but if i love you, this will all be worth it sometime soon.
and pay attention -there’s a line for you and here it is:
everything i’ve written has started to sound like you, and i’m dangerously close to falling off the knife’s edge of my feelings.
and pay attention -because there are lines for you in every poem.