Rolling out of bed

Getting in the car

Staring out the window

Empty eyes looking far

Sleepwalk through classes

Fake a convincing smile

Answer arbitrary questions

Dying inside all the while

Talking to people

Even though it feels so fake

Trying to make it through the day

Is almost too much to take

Getting home is a relief

Then you collapse into a chair

Trying to keep the semblance of a soul

That you hope still remains there

Falling into a slumber

Full of manufactured dreams

Feeling your sanity slipping

Feel it spilling out the seams

A short six or seven hours later

If you’re lucky, sometimes ten

You’re awakened by the blaring

Telling you it’s time to start again

I want to so bad
I just want to feel the pain
To feel the suffering that my sins bring
To see the heartache my actions sing
To know I am in control
To understand that I am normal
To hear the world my lips speak
To understand the silence that no one brings
I want to know why I do this
I want to understand what goes on
I want to be able to stop myself
When the time comes again.

Refill your coffee cup.
Copy and cut
—the pieces that fit.
It’s hard to break habit.
The message was clear
—it’s what we held dear.
The shadows and fear
—were just an illusion anyway.
It’s the price we pay… the things we say:
the adjectives, the verbs,
—but not the nouns.
We’re not that profound
—not yet.
Light a cigarette.
Take a pull and take a sip.
It’s hard to hit home when
—you’re still alone.
Just another reminder
—of the time spent beside her.
But it’s running out.
And these cliche sayings
won’t refill the hour glass.
As the memories pass…
The sound of her voice
—and the choices we made.
We’ve paid our dues
—and went our separate ways.
Light another cigarette.
Take another pull and
—take another sip.
Put down your broken coffee cup.
Copy and cut.
These pieces no longer fit.

It's a long way to twilight
With the day refusing to die.
The fiercely beating sun digging his heels in,
Dogged in retreat;
The stars and the moon bashfully hidden
Behind the veil of his blazing glare.

The sky cloudless, no impediment
To the spears of his incandescent beams;
The road, barren, tree-less.
Only the shrubbery of razor-sharp pebbles underfoot,
Kin to the cacti
Without even the saving grace
Of their greenness.

It's a long way to twilight
And the day refuses to die...

this is where i was supposed to tell you
(what I was going to say)

i guess you know now that I didn't
because if I had told you these last few lines would have rhymed
would have been details into the synonyms my heart has ascribed to your name

this is where i was supposed to give in and admit
what all my little footnotes of blushes really mean
that i really wouldn't mind it if you kissed me


this is where i was supposed to tell the truth
but all i can write are lies

because this is where i'm terrified
terrified that somehow you'll read this and know
even though i didn't say anything at all

this is where i beg myself to let myself say just one little thing
just one little anecdote, just one little truth, please?

this is where i was supposed to open my own file
and read what my subconscious wrote

this is where I stay in stasis
this is where i erase this

backspace.