Sunday, August 30, 2009
It takes locks to break them.
With the constant movement of your mouth.
Those messages filled with promise.
Everything you want to share.
...but you said that already.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Kinda Sorta Fickle
"Kinda Sorta Fickle"
I'm nothing but a memory moving from place to space.
Hidden as that lost cruching defeat. Fool yourself no longer. Cast no further stones. My city, your world. These crazy floors. My limited contractions. I'm not ashamed of these. They mean far too much to me. Taught a lesson in personal grace. Sit still. Now face the other way. Put your feet down. Hands to yourself. Wipe your dry, dirty mouth. Hooks in you, out from me. What we deserve lingers. It defines who we are as artists. Waiting for your vacation to finally end from this terrible place. This awful career. It keeps your mind flooded with sounds just so you're always distracted.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
In Your Wake
"In Your Wake"
Push aside the rusting flowers.
Energy bursting from your crushing steps.
Make way through the brick lined constructs.
Focused on leaving this wrecked unjust Earth.
To be vanquished from those already left for dead.
Gone afar and worlds apart.
To starts over again.
Paralyzed by your passing.
Thrashing about barely afloat.
Clutching onto the shit you left behind.
Backsliding in an effort to move forward.
Distracted by every little living thing.
Drowning from the crashing waves.
In your wake.