Flow

I drove this morning with the lonely day moon.
It hung sad without any stars to keep it company.
It reminded me of your eyes.
You throw them like beautiful bricks through the windows to my soul.
Your devil may care facade smiles like an aging actress.
It could use a facelift.
I yearn for an audience to hear my shouts.
But once I had one I don't think I'd know what to say.
It's good to have an optimist around.
I'm just so pessimistic about optimists, though.
I'm skeptical (jealous?)
It's hard to believe they're being genuine sometimes.
That's just my perspective taking over.
I guess attitude is a big part of how things turn out and being upbeat can probably only help.
This stream of consciousness has flowed through so many forests of fakes and dumped into too many lakes of lies to think of treading back against the current.
I'll remain content in a placid pond of lost thoughts.

Glow

Sleep deprived.
Not yet, but it won't be long.
What does someone like me have to offer?
Each keystroke is a moment I could have spent doing something productive.
Still waiting to be inspired.
Current waiting time is still indefinite.
My scars stare up at me like friends recounting old memories.
Telling it like it is, holding nothing back.
Real friends don't have "end" in their title because they're brothers and comrades.
You were always the one there to hold their hair back after we let them drink too much.
Your door is closed most of the time, but you should know I'll be on the other side when you want to open up.
To the friendships that met their ends: thanks for the memories.
Some jokes just aren't funny without you around for them.
Excuse Don, but everyone else just thinks I'm being stupid.
Some too proud or pious, just leave it be.
I'm getting by just fine with what I've got, despite the words I cry on here.
You'd probably be happy to know my finger still flicks my blinker on every time I pass your street.
I'll lay here awake under covers, happy in the glow of my screen until the alarm sounds and I haven't slept at all.
Welcome back, insomnia.

I know what you think..

We live alone right next to one another.
Dwelling in the shadows but blinded by each others' words.
Speaking with sarcastic seriousness only we understand.
Stuttering silence as we scribble standard prose.
Seeking, desperately searching underneath our clothes.
Hiding behind hair and holding pale blue hands.
Hemorrhaging heartbeats beneath glass chests.

This is what we convince ourselves we need.
All you've been dreaming of, it surely must be love.
Twisted like cables behind red eyes.
A stare like a plane crash that took off with no intention to land.
My big city eyes can't stick to the suburbs for long.
I'm next to you in body, but my mind is far gone.
Just cross all your fingers and hope that I'll change into someone else.
But there's no way that heart's as fucked up as mine.

Losing my voice like keys.
Playing hearts like a game.
This night is no different and only the weather has changed.
Lie awake under rising suns, wondering if this is where we belong.
Each well-crafted word means a little less than the last.
You can't pull off dialogue like this without a supporting cast.
Embrace another winter morning that keeps you in bed a little longer.
Passing by opportunities like train stops, racing back to our dreams.

.dm.

..you don't have to say it.

Time is medicine

Stocking feet on hardwood floors,
Fireplaces and melting s'mores,
Folded into the comfort
Of new sheets and old friends,
Electric signs and pickup lines,
Underage and out of mind,
Perfumes idle by
To haunt our dreams tonight.

Schematics, drawings, master plans,
Have left the safety of my hands,
The ink is dried and can't be used,
The playwright works without his muse.

Fingernail marks and lipstick stains,
Find their place and mark the page,
As we walk through nights to get away
Through puddles of thoughts in peaceful rains,
Kisses unfinished and chances not taken,
Rise to the surface like cream as we're aging,
Showing smiles that we force to our faces
While our true feelings hide like the sketch beneath paintings.

Dreams, desires, whims and wishes,
Sabotaged and surreptitious,
Youth betrayed by matter and mind,
The sun sets on golden days, leaving us in the dark and blind.

~dm~

It was rainy today, which always seems to inspire me to write. It's January and I think it needs to start snowing again soon. I'm not a fan of cleaning snow off of cars, but I really like watching it fall and the way it looks when it's on the ground. Today was really unexpected and things turned out in a way I didn't think they would, perhaps for the best. I think it will all turn out okay... ok, not really. I don't know why I typed that because I actually don't think that. All I think about is how I don't think anything will go right and I'll never move on from this part of life. I can't make a decision and stick to it, I get into one thing but then I get concerned about it and think I should change everything, which just slows down any process I begin. Knowing this should be a good start to changing it, but I've known this for some time and still I'm the same person. Who knows. Good day.

Live again, live again....

The road is narrow, the horizon wide
And they say what's waiting on the other side
Is so rewarding and the ultimate prize
But what good is something if you can't have it until you die?

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?
Live again, live again!
Would you give it all up to live again?

Temptation, revalation, you decide
Torture shows its colors often in disguise
Progress and purpose help us realize
We pass along a brighter faith even though it must be blind.

Desperate, tenacious, clinging like a grain of sand
Watching its foundation wash away (wash away)
Drunk with the assertions they know they can't defend
Confident that they might live again.

(badreligion)

Pull Up, Pull Up

This is what I feel like today. Like Zach Braff in Garden State. He's waiting tables with a bunch of people all around him but he's completely zoned out. It's not just because I was waiting tables, I've just felt this way all day. I guess I've got a lot on my mind and things aren't working out exactly like I hoped they would. I'm usually pretty good at hiding my emotion, but I guess I wasn't today. It's like I'm doing all this work but what am I working towards? And am I going to be happy when I get there? Should I take the safe path or the interesting one on the chance I'll be able to make something of it? I really don't know, but I don't have time to waste on wondering. I need to make a decision.

"Los Angeles Tower, this is Transworld 22 Heavy, we are going down! Mayday Mayday!"