Casualty: my interest fading
Once waxing moon now seen waning
And I did concede your irksome warning
And watched as the rest played out

So let bygones be gone, fallen out by the side
Of this road, worn down, still restless, keeping straight
Eyes glinting off token little bits of hospitality
Mother nature being so inclined at times

The stress so unnerving, I hardly doubt it
But tension is eased once it comes to acceptance
And I accept in full, finding time to unwind
Winding stretch of lonely road, dotted here and there by
An occasional landmark
Or a lonely tractor pulling behind it
Iron bars, old and rusted
Found in their hold
Bales of hay or
A small little pond
With a bench beside it
Holding initials carved against the grain

With a heart surrounding

As mine beats slower

At last, the sun begins going down

And the moon grows brighter
Even in its state
And my feet move faster
Though my body is withering
I feel this separation growing
As my mind takes flight and leaves me

Behind, in the twisting twilight
And alone, I walk along

Driving up slowly...
Park across the street.
Nobody should know where we meet.
Walking up slowly...
Wishing I was drunk.
At least that would explain my funk.

Now I’m peering,
Peeling off my skin.
There’s no healing;
It’s a game you can’t win.

Now I’m driving up slowly...
And making myself go home.
The things I do,
To let myself roam.
Now I’m driving up slowly...
Two hours before I’m home.
All this effort...
And nothing to show

Writing silently...
The words aren’t coming
Like I planned.
I pray someday that someone understands...
Because I don’t.

Driving alone,
Driving alone.
Home is not so lonely...
When I’m driving up slowly.
So, I’m coming home.
Yes, I’m coming home.

I caught an arrow that broke your heart
You dodged a bullet meant for me

A blinding
Hopeless inclination towards a blending of nostalgia
And something just a twinge surreal.
Too enraptured, perhaps, or too locked inside the senses
The search takes me places, to small shards that I don't quite comprehend.
Still unsure why, if I can't, or I just don't want to.

It's old and familiar
Soaking in solitude, rife with memory.
Touched lightly by the hem of rose tint, blooming in the spreading flames.
As the old wooden paneling, tried as a tinderbox
Begins to peel away, affected by the heat.
A fire, awakening with the first rays of morning.
To warm up the little room, as the walls softly fall, turning to ashes.
Revealing the bare frame.
And the fauna outside begins to show itself
Sprinkled with dew, gently coaxing away the flames.
Rooted too close, it would seem
As they progress, slowly wither under ash

But for now, I still crawl through creation.
Hopeless, I'll never recapture...
Ignoring new context, engulfed in this fruitless rapture
With the past still dancing through my head.

I wake up when the morning takes its first few breaths and it guides my lungs along,
it says;
breathe, breathe child,
it's true you're in the bottom bulb of the hourglass,
but it's not the sand you're drowning in,
it's your thoughts.

"Tell me your wishes," you asked.

At this very moment, I wish tomorrow wouldn't come.

You are my universe,
that is slowly losing stars.

I badly wish tomorrow wouldn't come.
Because tonight,
I can see the last single star.

Not so bright,
seems like bidding goodbye.