In the middle of the night

In the middle of the night, when you are lying next to me, perhaps you have drifted off to sleep or perhaps you blink once or twice and stare straight back at me when you will question what I see because you can see that I can see. Something. I can not tell you. Something. About. Morality, mortality and me. I can see. Me, myself and I. I can see. Me, where I perceive myself and where I truly want to be. I can see all the people that have proclaimed to love and later left me. I can see. Who is left and leaving. Yes. I can see. All the people that have failed me. In response, simply, I respond: I don't want to be here, but I am happy that I am here with you. If I have to be here. I want to be here with you. If I could leave here, if I could be where I wanted to be, I would not leave you here, I would take you with me. I would want to be with you. I would want you to be with me.

One more.

Me and my friends, we don't encourage discipline or really much of anything. We do our drugs to wheel it up and tell ourselves that this is love, but it's never added up and it'll never be enough, no it'll never be enough. The same corner booth, the same King Street bar, the same sour mouths, the same empty arms: forever and ever, our lives on a loop. It's the same dollar drafts, the same whiskey words, the same hanging hearts, the same old scorched earth: further and further away from the truth. I wanna stop it but it's the only life I know how to live. We make a mess of what matters, give our good grace away. We try to drink the clock backwards, and pretend like nothing's changed but you think I'm a liar and you think I'm a fake, and I think you're a coward, but that's not what I say: instead I call you my brother and you call me the same. I wanna stop it but it's the only life I know how to live and I wanna stop it: let the smeared words spill out of the sides of our mouths; go be my ghost and I'll go be yours but tonight, brother pour me one more; yeah tonight, I'll just cut you one more. One more night tonight on a night where one more drink is alright.

Human frailties, a feast.

Oh, my instincts have failed me. Finally I fell under a deep sleep, exhausted in the shade of a tree. In my defense, I was motionless, I was watching for some sign of rain. A cloudless sky over dessert terrain. As the hours past. As the sun shifted. The shade rolled right off of me. As she approaches I am dreaming of them with their kill, her pride, tearing it all apart, blood dripping, teeth sinking into heart and hide when I awoke with the shrill and excitement of adrenalin and pain. It was fight of flight. I was frightened. Exposed. Stupid. Ugly. Alone. I must have discovered my wounds just in time but there is also the urge to just take the fangs to the neck, to allow a well executed crime to take over, give under the weight of a death roll, feel the euthanizing take place and just let the eyes roll groggily back. Lie there as she feeds, watching yourself ripped to shreds and laughing as you bleed onto death in her well constructed trap. Where I guess you found me. Wounded. In need of some peace of mind. And for those of us falling in love who keep one eye open at night: if you're living you don't stand a chance, for a time, though you share the same bed but there are only two ends to this dance. I want to feel my heart break if it must break in your jaws. Whether you save me, romance. Whether you savage me, romance. You can't get here fast enough. I want my last look to be the moon in your eyes. Whether you save me, romance. Whether you savage me, romance. You can't get here fast enough.

I don't want to be a rockstar anymore.

When people expect something of me just because they read my songs? Song writing for me is my catharsis: when I'm down, I write a song, and that's what comes out of it. A positive from a negative. I'm not always down. Everybody has bad times and good times but when I experience bad times I write songs about them. For instance: when something is disturbing me or I feel strongly about a situation, I write a song about it. I like to take my writing very seriously, but I don't take myself very seriously. The idea of a Rock Star does not sit comfortable with me. I don't have a story, I just write stories.

a broken heart waiting.

aint no memory longer. aint no will that's stronger. aint no midnight knocker. aint no colder water. aint no diamond tougher. aint no voice that's gruffer. aint no fool that scares her. aint no fouler weather. aint no taste more bitter. aint no shooter straighter. for four days I've been drinking, it's the best you get to hiding, just thinking of her unwilling with him. he's a dead man if he wants to get tough. or. he's a broken heart waiting if he's smart enough. i will. i will. i will. steal one's thunder. i am. i am. i am. a black cloud gaining ground.

It isn't easy living in a world that isn't easy.

No, there are no harlots, and there are no hornets, in a world that is easy. No, there are no predators, and there are no preachers, in a world that is easy. No, there are no emotions, and there are no sensations, in a world that is easy. Yes, there is less weight in a decision, and there is less weight in destruction, in a world that is easy. Yes, there is a lightness of being, and there is lightness when breathing, in a world that is easy. Yes, you are a light on a dark night, and you are a light shining on what is wrong and what is right, in a world that is easy.
It isn't easy living in a world that isn't easy.
So, let them talk, if talk is cheap, may it weigh less when drunken lovers cheat. Just do what is easy. Don't ever read and don't ever write, never leave home and get drunk every night. Just do what is easy...you are simple and bright, and you are clear when held up to the light, hand in hand with summertime a girl like you could make living easy.

The old flame; ignition.

Let's set fire to a small flame, ignition sparks cognition, ambition is affluent tonight as we alight our lifestyle obsessions and play down our possessions. We need nothing more than each other under these street lights. Let's set fire to an old flame, that burns in your chest, it came to rest with every broken heart but it never was extinguished by past lovers' distinguished mistakes. As you held your head higher. As you looked up from the sidewalk. I caught your eye. I looked up into the night sky. You are the only one I choose to imitate. I am competent in reconnaissance and I can read the fire inside of you, I wish not to fight it but further ignite it. I wish to take you by the hand tonight, and lead you home, I wish to leave you at your door and carry myself further alone only to dream of a future by which you stand by my side in the daylight, twilight, pitch black. This is all that we have. This is the 'it' that you have been looking for. Take hold. Hold fast. Yes, we are carrying the fire and it is killing us but I will follow you into the dark.

Finally, I confess.

I am what you see, I am not what they say. Conflicted thoughts, a bottle of wine, an unstable mind but pure of heart, I keep a bottle of whiskey close. A stiff drink and an unsteady hand. When I loved you, I loved you absolutely. I loved you the most. You broke my heart the day you said you loved me but that we couldn't simply be, together, instead you walked away. Working hard has made a man out of me. I am now complete. In years to come, soon enough, I will love another and I will forget about you. And then I will sing this song again: one more drink tonight, and then I will rest. You once held the reins, and you made me a mess. For all the speed and the strength that I gave, it was never enough. I was condemned a non runner. Birdie, there was so much more inside of me. Finally, I confess, I must rest. A black moon rising. I settle with the setting sun. I shut my eyes with the closing of the day. You'll never hear me talk about one day getting out, I wish to remain forever in love and alive. Life is the hardest drug, it just lasts and it lasts. Tomorrow is as they say just another day. God bless our broken hearts. Hold fast. We're okay. We're just a little tired.

waiting.

Love is no big deal, it's the falling we feel. From a second story window tonight, I consider the act of falling before I admire your reflection in the pane, admiration mixed two parts with pain. As I descend the stairs, and back down to earth, I imagine I am falling from grace, ugly, stupid and alone --- you continue to dance with our friends and again I go unnoticed. A double mixture of liquor and water. I start conversation. I spark admiration. But my mind is on you and you alone tonight, an injured bird needing a nest -- a place to rest my head --- to transcend a comfort zone and become tangible. To really fucking feel something...summer make good: hoping for something to change your mind. Summer make good: and in this time I will see that this is all that we have. Summer make good: but there is something in your eyes that tells me that this is the life for me. Summer make good for me. Please. Rearrange us.

One look at you and heaven was on fire.

Beauty and truth. In another life, perhaps, bluebells and lavender. I recall the scent of summer. Together. In another life, perhaps. We could have been together. Happiness swells, it stirs and it shallows. The drugs don't work and then the drugs fucking work. In another life, perhaps. I will swallow no more drugs. In this life I get so low I need a little pick me up. In this life I get so high I need a bring me down. In another life, I suppose. We will be together. In perfect harmony. Today's frown turns around as I recall the triumph of our tired eyes last night, we left half a bottle of wine to spoil and I fell back in love with you. In this life, I don't want to be found. In this life I want to love and be loved by you and you alone. In this life you are a recurrent dream. In this life you both pick me up and bring me down.

One look at you and my head was on fire.

I always knew that I would spend a lot of time alone. No one would understand me. Maybe I should go and live amongst the animals. Spend all my time amongst the animals. And on the tracks I would go. They lead to the sea. To be amongst the animals.

Too busy or too much like me, we depart, we're free now to be whatever it is that we choose to be, I suppose, in society and the world at large I am so small. I don't blame you. You are free.

I always knew I would spend a lot of time alone. No one would understand me. I grew up ugly. I grew up stupid. And I grew up alone.
Maybe I should go out tonight. Spend all my money amongst the people and the lights. And on those white lines and wet tiles I would go. To the bar. To be amongst the animals.

Don't you dare think that you're small.

I wish they would feel young again, my friends, when everything was new -- when their parents held their hands and said; there's nothing you can't do.
In reality, there's nothing we can't achieve, you see it and it is most potent at night at the bars that we frequent when it feels like we might own this city absolutely. The room is wall to wall with friends and how the drinks will flow and how the dance floor will heave. When it's time at the bar, we've been drinking all night but we're aren't ready to leave. We buy two more drinks, or a bottle of something and sneak them out onto the streets of our sleepy city middle.
I just hope they know, how much I really care.
I just hope they know, how I want the best for them.
I just hope they know, even though I am hardly there.
Don't you dare think that you're small. Bless our broken hearts, they are liquored and lovely.
I just hope they know, how much I really care.
I just hope they know, how I want the best for them.
I just hope they know, even though I am hardly there.
Don't you dare think that you're small. We are powerful despite our injuries.

I need you to believe me.

If you know me then you already know all the things that I am afraid of: like, working too hard in this hospital for so long that I can't get out; or, waking up alone when I am old. but my feet do not pretend to fit the shoes that I am walking in so I will just put one stumbling foot in front of the next and try my best. If you know me then you have probably been made to see all my fuck-ups and flaws and the things that I have done wrong. but my feet do not pretend to fit the shoes I am walking in so I will just put one stumbling foot in front of the next and try my best. If you know me, well then hopefully the end of the rope seems to slowly roll farther away. but my feet do not pretend to fit the shoes that I am walking in so I will just put one stumbling foot in front of the next and try my best. If you know me. If you know everything. Well, then, thank you for everything. If you still know me.

the contender.

i remember that day like it was the back of my hand
but i keep the memories safe in the back of my mind
we were witnessing the shoots of spring, when she closed her eyes
when she decided to say goodbye for the last time

we were drinking in an old run down saloon
she said "a woman must do what she must do,
and i must admit, when you swing your fists,
i can see a murderous rage rise up in you."

they all call me the contender
they say one day i may take the belt
you can beat me black and blue
leave me scarred and bruised
they say i can take care of myself

the day of the fight her phone must've been off the hook
i called so many times they took my per diem off the books
as they laced up my gloves, i was sweating so much
even coach had to have known that i was shook

my name blew up in lights as i was announced
i made my way through the thunderous crowd
none of them could tell what i knew too well
i might not be able to help letting them down

they all call me the contender
they say one day i may take the belt
you can beat me black and blue
leave me scarred and bruised
they say i can take care of myself

he did hit me clean and hard, i'll give him that, and
everyone knows i could've laid that bastard flat on his back
but as my head hit the mat, all my swelling eyes could see
was the shape of her dress in the place of her favorite seat

moments before, our eyes had finally decided to meet
and i was reminded of how much it hurts that bird to see me swing
so i took one deep breath, held it firmly in my chest
swallowed my pride and braced for what happened next

they all call me the contender
they say one day I may take the belt
you can beat me black and blue
leave me scarred and bruised
they say I can take care of myself

constructive summer.

the winter of mixed drinks poured and cleaned up. through the overlooked broken glass that remains and the short cut alleyways we appraised on colder winter nights at sunrise, we walk and breaks through an underdog spring morning, our bodies warming to the understanding that it is backed by a summer inherent in the human mind that grants us all the power to be something bigger. to be somewhere, something with someone. we're going to build something new this summer while others piece things back together. together, we can be strong. as friends, we are blessed. our romance, endeavor and circumstance must surely burst and bloom. I recount our blessings, our treasures. To us, and friendship, I raise a glass. what was seemingly half mask, is now proud in full display. we sway all the way home, toxic and merry.

Cogito, ergo sum.

Somedays aren't yours at all:
and I don't feel like fighting the good fight; it's on days like these, I imagine, she doesn't feel like picking up the phone.
and honesty doesn't feel right; it's on days like these, I imagine, that she doesn't want to be alone.
and being lucky in love isn't enough; it's on days like these, I imagine, that she doesn't want anyone to know that she's at home.
Instead I use my imagination: fighting the good fight by her side feels right; by any means necessary, we're alright.
Instead I fall back on just enough gumption: honesty by her side feels right; by all means, we're alright.

Evil simply doesn't exist when times are good.

"What if a window is a door?" Well, I've heard that shit before. I am not your way out. That was never what this was about.
All the world is mad but I'm not nearly as naive or afraid as not to put up a fight.
I'm stood by your left hand side tonight. Other nights I'll be found on your right.
Let's say we leave together if and when it feels alright to leave together tonight.
It's never too late for another song when, the drinks are deep and the winter is long but, the company still keeps.
If you want to get out of here, that's alright. Let's say we leave together if and when it feels right to leave together tonight.

..and i know what every basement in the world can feel like on a good night.

Hopeless or helpless, neither a romantic. You may tire of me, I perceive, as you tire of me it seems. We are powerful, despite our injuries, I believe in this an absolute truth and in turn, as if to prove it, I rise before the sun and leave the house early each morning to return late at night in order to provide for others with a greater dependency. Irony is affluent, I insist, in a life where I am unable to provide for myself -- some-days simply aren't mine at all, to have or to hold --- I cherish the hole that I am finding ever inherent in my life. A hole that is not the exception but the rule. The hole is not the void in my life, but instead I learn that the void exists around the hole...in my chest, in my head, in my bed --- a depression, a negative, a darkness -- that painfully says: not a God-damn thing is going to change.
..and you may tire of me, I perceive, only as you tire of me it seems. Hopeless and helpless, but never a romantic. I named you sunlight in the stories I constructed, before ambiance replaced the chorus of story telling in my head. As I find a way to fall from the sun, I abandon my graces tonight as I become aware that there's one last drink before the bottle breaks, returning us to the dust from whence we came. I do savour the taste.