Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
I'm in the sun by crashing waves
But no one waves to me
I hear them speak most every day
They don't speak to me

I'm lost in a foreign land
Wishing I could be back home
Where even when I'm by myself
I don't feel so alone
I'm going home

I see eyes on their solemn face
But I don't see life
What is this terrifying place?
It's not what I thought it'd be like

I miss my streets filled with snow
I miss the gray skies above
I miss my hands feeling numb with cold
I miss the warmth of love

I'm lost in a foreign land
Wishing I could be back home
Where even when I'm by myself
I don't feel so alone
I'm going home
Jordan Rowan Jan 2016
I slept a little last night
But I don't think I closed my eyes
I'll tell you I'm alright
You should know I'm good at lies

I'm tired and terrified
And I'm sick of being scared
My brain is kinda fried
Maybe I'm just unprepared

Maybe a change of scenery
Will cure my misery
I'd like plane tickets but I can't afford 'em
So I'm going to Portland

I had a drink last night
And I was nowhere to be found
I'd like to think it was one drink
Only if the whole bottle counts

I'm a servant to the rush
And I believe in laying low
But when someone says to hush
I like to give it to them slow

Maybe I need to leave
So my mind can finally breathe
I don't need no beach of sand
I'm going to Portland
Puds Aug 2
The Clock Runs Down Never
Slowing
As Seasons Turn By Degrees
And Life Goes Where Its Going
In A Mist Blown Away On A
Breeze.
Jordan Rowan May 2016
Some lonely hour on a Sunday afternoon
When the sun is high and so are you
Write me a letter or call me on the phone
I don't want you to feel alone

How have you been since we last spoke?
Grab a seat next to me and a smoke
I just wanna do whatever you want to
We can conquer this life or sleep it through

It's always you and me
When we've got nowhere to meet
It's always me and you
When we've got no one to see and nothing to do

Some lonely hour on a Sunday afternoon
When the night is young and so are you
Try to ignore the noise around you
If you're going down, I'm going down too
Ashari Ty Jul 13

raindrops waltz on the window glass
cold air blew from the inside fast

yellow street lights blur afar
farther, the dark blue twilight stars

but to be farthest from home

soft purr of the revving engine
asphalt wet from tears of heaven

silent music, or at least for me
i chose to listen with the notes empty

i had no choice

twelve-hour ride felt so fun
twelve hours back felt like one

slumber saves my heart and sanity
no dreams, but no reality

and there's no going back

closer, from where i was born
but the road to my soul, stretching horizon

neither alive nor dead nor shy
no joy, but no tears left to cry

'cause no corner of emotions left to pry

and there's no going back

i had no choice

but to be farthest from home.
looking back is realizing the impossibility of going back.
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
I took apart the clock and set it on the floor
Where I'll be going I won't need it anymore
I'm going out
I'm going down
You'll find me in the sun with no one else around

I sang a little tune and tried to write it down
Doesn't matter if it slips it'll find its way around
I'm going out
I'm going down
You'll find me where only nature makes a sound

I've got a ringing telephone in the palm of my hand
I threw it in the water so I could truly breathe again
I'm going out
I'm going down
You'll find me with a smile somewhere out of town
sara Jul 30
I'm lost in translation,
bound
by hallucinatory sensations,
found
between border and sea,
cold but free
like a continental breeze
that drifts lonely
to shore.
Still so unsure.
Then lost again, once more;
this time she's lost like never before.
David Aug 7
She went down
slower than the Titanic
but
equally majestically
Watching cooling towers implode on YouTube. ...
m Oct 2017
We don’t use diaries anymore -
those are meant for secrets,
and we have none.
We let them spill out of our bodies,
and pour onto blank white sheets.
We swear it’s the only way
we are going to heal.

We turn our pain into poetry.
Anything that hurts this much
has to mean
something.
And even though we are desperate
for anyone to listen,
our language is in the letters
that we will never send.

We romanticize pain like it’s the
only lover we will ever know.
Love is our god and we are each our own devils.
Too fragile for this world,
ceremoniously destroying ourselves
before anyone else can do it for us.
Yet we still can’t understand why we’re so broken.
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