I am grass crawling out of the ***, once all the flowers have rot
Delicate green, spreading your gentle fingers, same color lingers in her eyes
Spent too many tears trying to forget the feeling of making those eyes cry
The years do fly by, but now I just find myself trying to make sense of them
A jumble of puzzle pieces from different sets, cutting and pasting my soul like Papier-mâché
Waiting on the day when I can honestly say I don't need you

Across mountains, on the fleeting foot
Left is forward, right is south, but I dream of north
Of distant peaks, of turbid coast, at the bottom of the end
Swallowing my tail, fishtailing sideways
Walking through the creek, dead limestone spire
Tripping down the lee shored dreams
Crimson port songs, starboard green moon
Bring me to those mountains once again,
to climb

Tossing stones into shallow pools
Putting on these blue socks & walking away,
but these blues keep stalking down my neck
Dropping from my lash, from cheek stained red
Shame and bitter contempt
Sorrow and chewed Nicorette headaches
Dead breaks of trees waiting to burn,
on a match to turn things sideways
Wide days spent dreaming
Long night spent grieving
Childhood spent teething for truth
Rot out tooth on Baby Ruth and root beer
Never close, forever near,
I'll see you around one day my dear

My tears bleed into the sea, pleading for foam to take my breath
Sand shifting between knees, I'm so tired, I must simply rest
Remembering the days of new islands and new seas
Watching them appear off port bow, new mountains, new trees
Lee shores and bioluminescent dreams, flicking smoking butts into dark foam unseen
Staring into undulating emptiness off the starboard aft beam

No matter the effort, the end result is determined
Your hair will grow into the ground
Impounded  corpse into claustrophobic confinement
A cacophony of black birds in parking lots, on buzzing wires
A symphony of cicadas subsiding to silence
If love was violence you'd leave me dead and smiling
Worth every last **** cent

That ****** up flag flying
Is a waste of cloth!
Lower it immediately, a blanket now!
There is a man sleeping on the street, a sheet of cardboard!
Give him this lie of a sheet,
To wake up warm!

Don't know why I come to these places, such inflated expectations
Waiting on someone to walk up to my cocoon soul, do magic
A dwindling pack of Newports, another sour beer
The hour of its end draws near, yet I stupidly sit here, waiting on nothing