Dear Old Friend
I know your house burnt down, but I’ve had the same fire burning in my head before.
Kissing the wires of my brain while I find my nerves washing up on shore.
I still have the taste in my mouth of white ash and where the salt dried it out.
I think of you sometimes, but I can’t picture your voice anymore.
I have so many drafts I need to post.
Don’t Make Much Of It
When I think about the world,
you know, the grand scheme of things,
I become worried, fixated, agitated, hopeless, and abruptly lost.
We have made cowards and cheats into gods and watched heroes turn to mere myth and legend.
Our brains are fixed to fit the popular ideologies and we are not taught that, for that cause, for centuries our rivers have ran red with blood.
And a book says it’s for eternal love…
Ashtrays and Windowpanes
What a shame
My grandfather will never see the man I’ll be.
The music I’ll make
Or the girl who might one day share my name.
Oh, blood rust, what have you taken from us?
And, God, have you ever been tame?
Take me back to seventeen where I could wash myself clean on the riverbanks.
Among other things,
Drinking heart break and smoking revelry in the rain.
Bitter kids amidst better friends
Ashing out and leaving our stains to be replaced by the songs we’d sing
In hopes grace would swing low, bringing hope, and carrying our troubles away.
Therapy, you’ve always came in melodies.
Faith, I’m thankful you were always there to keep me sane.
I’ll fall asleep dreaming of leaving a cigarette burning in the ashtray just to do away with the whole damned thing.
Afterwards For Me To You
The colors tend to fade
From black to red
From blue to gray.
And I’d think, amnesia is a pretty word
Only if my mind didn’t fake the things my heart wanted to say.
You could be tired, but I’m wide awake.
So say something, or don’t, sometimes I don’t know if it matters anyway.
A ghost on hardwood floor keeps reminding me that I’m never alone.
I keep the company of old thoughts on sleepless nights
And a home I lost where I etched my name and left my scent against her bones.
If no one will remember, then maybe they’re quick to forget.
But tonight my house is on fire with the ashes she left to burn out by themselves.
I step outside, hoping for another life and another time.
If nothing else I can gather my thoughts and watch the smoke rise.
No one has it figured out, but we dance like we know the steps.
This town is only sure of itself, and I’m waiting for someone to tell me what’s next.
The Ship’s Chipped The Faith
I tried swimming for days.
Oh God, have you only looked away?
Tell Noah the arcs going under
And I’m afraid that no one is safe.
Tell the bell ringer to ring the bell
If we’re underwater at least we’re not in hell.
And if the meek shall receive, blessed be us, Father, blessed be!
For now we wait and we wait and we wait
Sending curses to the captain
For letting this ship sink.
All’s well that ends well,
But if we’re all dead
Who will tell our fucking stories?
What We Left
We were born fireside
into the empty heart’s of our town’s eyes.
They say it gets better.
That, kid, you better believe it.
That’s what I’ve heard.
But it gets so hard seeing clear sometimes.
Leaving behind the lines cast by the streetlights of your town
So we could hide
letting the camp fire smoke fill our souls most warmer nights.
I still smile, and I hope you dream the same.
What they tried to tell me about therapy
I think I all but learned myself.
Because there’s a song and a friend,
A drink, and words worth sharing,
A toast to nights that never end.
You Were A Beautiful Season
I stared holes in the southern night sky for half an hour.
The late summer wind reminding me of you, rubbing its hands through my long red hair before quickly leaving.
Missing you only leads to two things:
Smoking and Dreaming.
And often times it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.
I can’t keep staring holes through the tree lines every night.
Always letting the cold air touch me, like you used to, telling me you’re really gone.
You were a beautiful season and your heart reminded me of home.
But you bleed me out when you told me you were leaving.
I think I still taste the blood on my teeth
And staring out into the southern nights has become my only relief.
I think I’ve found some consistency.
You are not coming back.
Everybody Leaves And I’d Expect As Much From You
Suddenly the love you used seems older now.
And just like lightning, I find you falling down.
You’re a coffee shop that’s closed while it’s cold on mainstreet.
You’re a king without a crown.
You’re a ride to the station
As an old love packs up her things to head out of town.
And at least she got out of here..
So I wait and light it up.
The hours burn slow and scratch at my tongue
And the waitress comes by and pours nostalgia into my cup.
She’s a consolation sigh, but hasn’t the heart to tell me that you won’t come.
But I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t show.
So I wait
And I wait
And I wait ‘til my coffee turns cold
And the graveyard jukebox is telling me to go home.
But I can only sing along to
Southern accents on the radio.
I know I won’t sleep or let it go.
But it’s over now.
And she let me go.
So just let me know that we’re older now.
And we did this when we were young.
Money isn’t happiness and that’s something you must understand.
But it did buy these cigarettes that are pushing these thoughts into my hands.