It's early enough
things are starting to lighten up
you know that brief in-between time
when the sky is that strange,
infinitely deep blue?
And you feel honored to catch
that fleeting moment
before the slide flips
and the sun climbs
and the blue seeps away?

you are not alone in this. No, you are not alone in this.
as brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand
hold your hand.

it's empty in the valley of your heart {the cave - mumford & sons}
breathing in snowflakes {the a team - ed sheeran}
standing in the dark {standing in the dark - lawson}
on the corner of first and amistad {you found me - the fray}
fading out the light softly saying {shuffle - bombay bicycle club}
life's too short to even care at all {cough syrup - young the giant}
i miss our little talks {little talks - of monsters and men}
now i'm driving round on the boulevard {swim good - frank ocean}
chasing after gold mines crossing the fire lines {between the raindrops - lifehouse}
trying to erase the memory of your face {warzone - the wanted}
but on a wednesday in a cafe i watched it begin again {begin again - taylor swift}
there's nowhere we can hide {demons - imagine dragons}
i'll build you shelter out of the rain {shelter - hedley}
and i will try to fix you {fix you - coldplay}
as long as you love me {as long as you love me - justin bieber}
even if you said i was wrong {perfect - hedley}
one minute i held the key next the walls were closed on me {viva la vida - coldplay}
london calls me a stranger {the city - ed sheeran}
but my shadow days are over {shadow days - john mayer}
nothing's fine i'm torn {torn - natalie imbruglia}
you're no good for me but i want you {diet mountain dew - lana del rey}
you make me feel like i'm intoxicated {intoxicated - the cab}
off last night's whiskey and coke {cold coffee - ed sheeeran}
is there something to believe in {makes me wonder - maroon 5}
i'm lost in the heat of it all {lost - frank ocean}
say what you need to say {say - john mayer}
i'm just waiting for the moment to arrive {gold rush - edd sheeran}
like ships in the night passing me by {ships in the night - mat kearney}
mirror on the wall here we are again {mirror - lil wayne}
but i'm not afraid {not afraid - eminem}
in your eyes i have seen all the feeling and the rain {venice - the lighthouse and the whaler}
you ran away in your sleep {paradise - coldplay}
but i won't give up on us {i won't give up - jason mraz}
like the colors in autumn so bright {red - taylor swift}
i loved you first {loved you first - one direction}
the lingering question kept me up {enchanted - taylor swift}
will your mouth read this truth {little bird - ed sheeran}
i've been loving you for quite some time {stay stay stay - taylor swift}
there's things you need to hear {the heart of life - john mayer}
you don't know how lovely you are {the scientist - coldplay}
i'm in love with you and all your little things {little things - one direction}
i belong with you  {** hey - the lumineers}
you belong with me {you belong with me - taylor swift}
i'm lucky i'm in love with my best friend {lucky - jason mraz feat. colbie caillat}

step one: find someone with the correct qualifications. make sure he has taken the correct courses and has credentials.
step two: if your lawyer has a double major in medicine, run away.
step three: he is a person, not a house. do not treat him as such. don’t begin to use his bones as beams and his heart as a generator.
step four: you are a person, and just because you have legal issues doesn’t take away from that statement. you are a person, not a project. make sure your lawyer realizes this too.
step five: if he tries to fix you, run away. go back to step one and pay extra attention to step two.
step six: doctors are bad news. stay away from them at all costs, even if they are a good lawyer too.
step seven: don’t try to fix him either, even if he needs the help. he needs the help, but he’ll never actually accept it.
step eight: he’s just a boy. not an angel, not a superhero, not a saviour, not a lawyer, not a doctor, not a repairman.
step nine: he is not a song. don’t make him a song. he is not a song. don’t compare him to “broken crown” by mumford and sons or “ice” by lights.
step ten: if you need legal advice, a professional works but ultimately a convicted girl is the best advice.
step eleven: whatever you do, don’t hurt him because you’re afraid of being hurt.
step twelve: don’t give him your sharps. save yourself. you don’t need him.
step thirteen: don’t **** yourself because he doesn’t care.
step fourteen: he cares.

drink, drank, drunk
hello there
what? you like Mumford and Sons
let's get out of here
wow, this is a comfy bed
wow, you're attractive
wow, that's a lot of Jack to finish up

kiss, kiss, kiss
truth is erased when mixed with alcohol
funny, isn't it

wow, let's do this!
your hands are so soft as they brush my face
and you sweep the hair behind my ears
kiss, kiss, kiss
wow, this is fantastic

Facebook Status; Relationship: .....
that's not my name
who is this girl
what
what
what

ugh.
not again.
used.
really.
****.


Good Morning :)  
what?
alright... Hey, there!

confusion
why am I always #2
side chick
really
ugh
this *****

his eyes show me that everything is alright
he wraps me up and I know in that moment
he speaks the truth
finally.

then the stories come out,
low self esteem and complicated life issues that still
are left as a mystery to me

he drinks to cure the numbness
but it only leads to more
I want to help
but can't find the words
****

new day.
he smiles and once again reminds me
everything is going to be okay
I believe him


drink, drank, drunk
wow, I am used
I am number 2
he only wants me for one thing
how could I do this to myself again
I let myself slip up again
that poor girl
the girlfriend
the girlfriend that isn't me
all these voices flood my head and repeat the obvious

no one will ever love you.
ouch.

all my self respect dissolves into my tears
I am alone.
I could make him choose?
what do I even say?
when I am with him all my problems seem minimal...
why would I leave that feeling to go to waste....
oh right, because being number two is disrespectful to myself.


decisions
decisions

Then I see his smile and I am conflicted
why me?

why me?

self respect or a cheater...
"if he cheats with you, he will cheat on you..."
my friends make this clear
the answer seems obvious
it should be easy to choose...
yet why am I having such a hard time
letting go.

weep for yourself my man
you'll never be what is in your heart
weep, little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start.

And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.

Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have.
That's why I hold.

And I won't die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and man so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

I told my friends I hated music,
that it was a waste of time.
And it wasn't till I liked a girl,
she made her music mine.

When things ended; I was moping,
So it hurt to hear her songs.
Yet I craved them since was coping,
and my drive was very long.

Sixteen hours I heard Mumford
and he reassured to me.
Love won't dismay nor will enslave,
But will always set you free.

you have your choices. and this is what makes man great-
our ladder to the stars.

Your lips are dry like mine, and the stubble on your upper lip and cheeks scratches my face.
I can tell you are exactly what I want in bed.
You are fun, energetic, controlling, a little bit selfish so I will actually have to work, too.
I don’t let anything happen, though,
as much as my gut and my blood want it to happen,
because I’ve given my heart and my brain joint custody and they both know you’re a terrible decision,
that especially being in your bed and
smelling your skin and
touching your hair and
even looking at you in public is a risk.

I want to be in your body and your brain and your heart,
but you just don’t feel as intensely as I do, probably about anything,
because you’re just a boy,
you’re just a person with priorities and thoughts and control,
and I’m just a girl,
I’m just a bag of bones and blood and dreams. I feel and you don’t. You just don’t.

I am made of bones and blood and dreams.
I am made of hopes and fear and adrenaline.
I am made of tears and teeth and tangled hair.
I am made of loathing and gluttony and predatory instincts.
I am made of skin and curves and fingertips.
I am made of orange and blue and brown.

You could be so much to me.
Your body wants to. Your body wants to hold mine, you are my fire at night, you let me put my cold ******* feet on your legs and keep them there so they would warm up.
You want to. Your body wants this, it wants mine,
it wants to feel my skin and my lips and my nails.
Your hair wants to be tangled in my fists and pulled tight.
Your hips want to crush mine with your weight,
to match the heat of our bodies face to face.
Your hands want to curl around mine.
I felt it, for just a few minutes you held mine like a father holds his child’s little fists,
or like a lover holds the blessed fingers of his companion’s hands close so that they will not stray.

The fist, that is our motif.
I want to punch you, to hit you on the *** and in the face and against your chest.
I want to wrap your hair around my fists and press your cheeks to my closed hands.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes.

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die.
Where you invest your love, you invest your life.

How wise you are, Mumford, you and your Sons.

Will I do this again to myself?
Will I continue to climb into your bed,
to press my tired cheek against your tired chest,
to wrap my weary fingers around your lion’s mane?
Will I keep testing my emotional limits on you, Mt. Kilimanjaro of the West?
I have to ask myself these questions and decide what to do. My sanity for the next month or so depends on it.
I made a promise to myself not to blindly and needlessly give away my affections,
not to accept love and touch where it didn’t belong.
Have I broken this promise already?
Have I already given up on myself, on my will, on my future, on my ability to dream and reshape myself?

I don’t know if I can stay away from you. I truly don’t know.
The smart part of me, my brain,
my dying brain,
reasonably denies you as an option.
My brain listens to you when you say you will break my heart.

My heart doesn’t hear that at all.

Can you lie next to her and give her your heart, your heart
As well as your body, and can you lie next to her and confess your love, your love
As well as your folly?

But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you my whole life

I felt your bones,
for you are so thin.
I felt your stretched muscles and a hot need to hold you close to my body.
I have not cried about it yet but I feel tears beating against the backs of my eyes,
which you said were pretty, and Kelso said they had sunflowers inside of them on good days
and when they are green I can’t stop smiling because I think when my eyes are green they are sexier and prettier
and that it’s God’s way of telling me to be confident,
that I am lovely and worthy and must work for the things I desire.

They are young, they have passion, we love'em out here,
they are on a tour, country wide, BC pride, their name,
Good For Grapes!  They are more than Indie, they are
the Sons and Daughter, Mumford never had, but they
did not lose out musically, they have their own unique identity,
they rock and they sing,
and even make shiny with some brass!  Did I say
their name already, Good For Grapes!

Musical future,
dissolving sutures,
to what music now
may hold for you,
Look for the "Man on the Page" and then
let yourself go! Listen! Enjoy...

When this wine touches my lips
Thoughts of freshman year float by.

Wine Wednesdays...
A weekly ritual marked by cheap Franzia and wandering hands
Mumford, Coldplay, and Dave
Laughter, Dancing
Build me up buttercup

This is my place
With you
On this cheap *** futon
Murphy girls and Detroit boys
Drinking this cheap *** wine
Together
How it was supposed to be

Cheeks rosy like our wine,
Sunset Blush with shy kisses
Soft whispers
Fingers intertwined
Your hand rests on my thigh
Gently moving up and down

I am in heaven.

If only for a moment
As I reminisce

memory*
n.* the power of the mind to remember things.

i may not be the best psychology student and
i might not understand how something is either
filed into your long term or short term memory,
but i think the entire concept is strange because
i can't even remember what i had for breakfast
this morning, yet i can remember everything
about you.

i thought being an astronaut was something
that only little kids dreamed of becoming,
but i wanted nothing more than that when
i realized that your eyes were planets
and that i could float around in them for
the rest of my life and always be satisfied.

two kids run past me one day in a walmart in
the middle of nowhere and it's eerie because
they are like the ghosts of you and me.
they race shopping carts down the food aisles
and laugh when the employees chase them
and it reminds me of how you knew who you
were and didn't care what anyone else thought
and i can still feel how much i envied that.

sigh no more by mumford & sons comes
on the radio and the only image i can see
is myself, hanging on to the very edge of a
cliff made up of emotions and "i'm sorry's", and
you come into the picture with a heartbeat
so powerful that it causes earthquakes of
anxiety in my brain and you say nothing as
you watch me fall and crumble to the bottom.

i don't know why i can't remember what
i ate for breakfast, but what i do know is
that i would rather have that memory than
suffer with the ones created by the words
you said that rattled my bones and sometimes
i shiver because i can still feel the cold breeze
you left behind from you walked away from me
for the last time.

A man uses his hands to tell a story.
A tall man in a suit walks by.
And on this side of the glass, with Mumford strolling through the air, the glare from the sun reflecting off of the cars parked in the street is just...

enough to obscure the details of the faces across the room.
And the coffee is good, as always.

A red bandeau and blue flannel.

I can still smell the mixture of mud and water on the ground, the stench of **** in the air as we walked next to each other across the campsite whilst the sun glared down on us beneath clouds filled with rain. I can still feel the sound of the bass vibrating from the main stage whilst you and I were all over each other in my tiny two-man tent that could only really fit one. I can still taste the overpriced candy floss we shared with each other and how your smile made my insides melt quicker than the ice cream we ate whilst watching the fair rides flash by under the sunset sky. That weekend flashed by faster than those screaming as they spun around in the neon-clad waltzer. I still wish to relive those four days, the four days I learned what love truly felt like and the four days I saw nothing but kindness in your ocean coloured eyes. But maybe it was the drugs in the air, the whole idea of a summer in love whilst we danced drunk together to Mumford and Sons that made me see you as someone worth my time. I was under the illusion of summer romance and it almost cost me my life.

i am a never-ending spiral of missing you.
in dreams i find myself in your presence,
these dreams turn to nightmares as reality is your absence.

i breathe in the air, and it smells like the autumn we spent together-
hauntingly warm and beautiful.
it smells like sunlight and leaves and happiness.
each inhale brings your memory closer,
each exhale pushes you further.

every white car I see is your Subaru.
the one that took us to the yellowing aspens.
every song has your jazz.
i could only listen to mumford and sons for three months.
every second is the absence of your embrace.

i know you're gone.
i KNOW.
i see your pictures with her
and i can see you're happy.
you have all of my happiness. you really do.

i have no consolation. no time. none at all.
never-never.

Ahh...I fed the trolls
Yippie...I've got them going
Now all in a frenzy
gnashing and chopping at the bit

they got their meals
a bit of attention
they've crawled from under the rotten pile
feeding like crazy

but they still have floopies
little hanging bits
that can't work proper
two minutes and all over
max and finish
hahaha hahah

Come vent, come share yer miseries
lash out yer ******* thimble Toms
I look down and see nine
If I was three I'll be you

hahaha thank heavens
who wants to be you
I'd rather stay in the rain
and watch the rainbow
and sing “Nine Is God” by Wavves.
or “9 Crimes” by Damien Rice.

but not  Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons.
or He Wan't Man Enough - Toni Braxton

hahaha hahaha hahaha

There is no better way to show that I really don't care than ramming
giant World War 2 hand grenades up your hemorrhoid-swollen rear

Killing everybody & destroying everything, because the day is long
is no reason for killing everybody & everything because it is wrong

☒ The truest of dead-tested-death-testing proves Robin's dead for sure
☒ By 26 August 2014: Robin F. Williams doesn't **** & doesn't snore
☒ Showing that his rotting *** is dead because it cannot **** anymore
☒ To distance Italians from Sicilian mobsters is a Neapolitan goal,
☒ so Italia: inter mummy Rosalia Lombardo to instate her timeless role
☒ as the raking gnaw of unholy museum worship exacts a Karmic toll
☒ La Repubblica italiana, bury Rosellina Lombardo to honor her soul
☒ Meanwhile a counterfeit woman lives as Michelle Obama the man
☒ Reeling in big fish, retiring with his husband and living on the land
☒ This Michelle Obama's of a neo-femininity heftily counter-manned
☒ Wail over the blubber of mercurial fish shrink-wrapped and canned
☒ Michelle's ribs are the Chesapeake Bridge over oily water spanned
☒ It's worse than what the immigration department doesn't require as
☒ the bureaucratic class charges a **** cop grid with a 240 live wire
☒ because accordingly Vatican City is the descendant Roman Empire
☒ where-from incorporated elites throw Christians on a funereal pyre
☒ 1 door-to-door monkey salesman Jim Jones of Jonestown, Guyana
☒ Died for the C.I.A. as M.I.5 murdered ex-princess ******* Diana
☒ Eerily hear '97's semi auditory disturbance: Tyson bites Holyfield
☒ No man in sox denies comforting knowledge of wearing 'em milled
☒ Patients scared sacred is the verdict on cells C.D.C.-certified killed
☒ set upon para-nucleic structures acidic pathologically-thunk sealed
☒ Mercifully a fattened Elvis crapped-out from a bloated heart stilled
☒ 2 farmers flea volcanic plains before furrowed meadows are tilled
☒ The Acámbaro Figures and Kensington Runestone aren't canonical
☒ As they're deliberately omitted from all Apocryphal books Biblical
☒ Skirts barely below mons veneris calculate lust & lure systematical
☒ Seems the totality of items round coax contraband flicks cylindrical
☒ Dirt & smudges & wrecks the sea causes, rounded to what's conical
☒ The beautiful Teresa Teng sang of “Another rainy day in Nagasaki”
☒  I have seen films of her on bikes, on skates but not playing hockey
☒ The ease in which legs are compressed & unfolded at the cat house
☒ makes me hearken for unstuck Tuesdays at ye olde Erin cork house
☒ where fish are skinned like brave men tried in a federal court house
☒ while uncracked minds get cracked up at a ****** town crack house
☒ Tex & Rita (to Memorex): Die you schizogenetic offering by dawn
☒ in the dirt-bag opting of a love stymied beneath an undeterred lawn
☒ in starving memory to Dutch: a ray-gun-loving Reagan called Ron,
☒ that war-dodging acquaintance of stage-dead mummer **** Shawn
☒ whose crap-out was viewed by attending audience as a planned con
☒ but alas the gray ******* was, medico-legally, dead and gone
☒ To negrita ****** & Albanian trulls & stenographers he's just John
☒ Lewis Mumford wasn't motherly as now Mum is his name or 'cause
☒ The Myth of the Machine Vol II: The Pentagon of Power was tame
☒ Mumford's keen intellect is marginalized and therein lies the shame
☒ Finding competent help for a homosexual brain defect ain't so easy
☒ with local brain doctors buggering sailors till they're both as queasy
☒ as allergists with red noses because allergy tests make them sneezy
☒ Many 62-year-olds get a kick out of bowel surgery when it's breezy
☒ beneath palms labeled alphabetically: tree w, tree x, tree y & tree z
☒ When you date first a date-****** you expect date-**** on first date
☒ To love profoundly we must possess an inalienable, intractable hate
☒ while a chaste Chaz hefts gobs of food from fridge to stove to plate
☒ faster than down hill on oily rails screams a train obese with freight
☒ that'll whip mufflers Oprah & Gayle at their queerest galloping gait
☒ Without toilet paper, ****** rags would be gay Clint Eastwood's fate
☒ as his ***-lovin'-Bohemian-Grove-attending *** needs an **** mate
☒ with a deep ****** receptive to bath-house Clint's masochistic trait
☒ enhanced by a brutal sadism borne of a splintered Korean War pate
☒ he got from a bumpy flight aboard an Army Air Force bomber crate
☒ dropping him into Richard E. Byrd's North Pole hollow-Earth state
☒ Viceroy Mountbatten was in tall grass fooling with his swollen ****
☒ when ****** India emerged from her foreign-imposed-grave-pit rut
☒ to absorb a parting partition shot with a death by the thousandth cut
☒ in '47 while King George VI could not keep his blabber-mouth shut

I'm riding my vasectomy to Mexico to speak Mexican with Mexicans; to out-chess-play and to out-grease and to dance frenetically around hat brims in Ol' Loredo with my best conchie-confrère & his cheeky chica...In my place, en México, I shall abide by the colorful laws what rain down from Distrito Federal. Pre-determinate factors and ultrasounding boards, alien to Canucks, flavor my spoilt dressings, menticidal mindlessness, jettisoned topsoil & localized scatterings.

SLAUGHTER NIGHT — The massacre in the Katyń Forest (Russia, 1940) & the Palm Sunday massacre at Ponce (Puerto Rico, 1937) eluded Madge Bellamy (June 30, 1899 – January 24, 1990) & Lewis Mumford (Oct. 19, 1895 – January 26, 1990)...I suspect that I am related to Margaret Philpott (better known by her stage name Madge Bellamy). I find no trace of the great Lewis Mumford about & around me. Lewis wasn't motherly strictly because he had mum in his name. I'm sure of my certainty. Running away is a running theme with me and not because homosexual-typesets demand privileges, not dissected, righteously-constricting ploys. A man has the right to wed a marriageable woman. Wed then bed is now bed don't wed. Normal people MUST STOP selling their babies to perverts (not only to homosexuals). Kentuckians have the fewest teeth and the highest concentration of sodium fluoride added to their drinking water. Things that weren't a long time ago are becoming a long time ago. My Nipponese plums are yellowing. If we get a sustained freeze now all is lost. This is the 3rd warm winter in a row. Like Lenny Bruce said: "Tell your husband nothing, even if he has pictures. Just say it was some *** hairdresser." Possums & beavers are nice but Jerry & Wally ****** aren't really brothers!