You were once a song in my head.
Was I always a sinking ship?
Were these seas ever this calm?
I once felt the fire in your lips.
I once felt the soft beat of my heart in your palm.
And I still taste you there,
dry like salt filling your absence in my chest.
But what once felt like love, darling,
has now turned to loneliness.
Southern Nights.
The south was made for us, Darling.
Born into wild nights, young love,
white t-shirts, and setting suns.
Staying warm enough to smile as we let our winter worries leave with the last of the medication.
Yeah, the south was made for us.
We were born of heat and river water just like our fathers.
Already summer blues.
Your ghost is already haunting my stomach.
I cannot write, I cannot eat, I can barely think.
Two a.m. met me, turning over and burying your words beneath my bed.
Silent emotion, my hands in my hair, attempting to pull you out of my head.
Darling, How could you do this?
I’ve never felt so alone or betrayed.
the waves crash, the clouds roll.
When you walked to my house and found that I was gone
you drove around in the silence of this empty town
until you made yourself accept that I was never coming home.
I’m not afraid of what you think of me.
I was afraid eventually you might not think anything,
and darlin’, that was enough to compel me to leave.
I told you to make damn sure of these careful convictions
when they were lifted to a place I couldn’t reach anymore.
Now your words are warm and your teeth are sore,
and that’s still not enough to close the distance.
You found a trail of burnt out cigarettes leading towards the coast.
You burnt the highways from here to my shoreline so that our ghost would never meet.
The flame’s quiet now and you’re walking the streets of our hometown with cold, haunted feet.
If I could write I’d tell you I was sorry, but these waves drown out my apologies.
Tales as tall as cliffs in made up memories you don’t miss.
Keep those windows closed for the season of thawed bones
that release the ghosts you hide so well.
Asleep in beds made for giants where morning will never find us,
oh, you keep your dreams as tall as cliffs in the stories that you tell.
Like the make believe devil outside of your apartment steps
that used to sing to me, but I swear we never met.
If he were real he’d sing,
“Keep to yourself and your hand rolled cigarettes,
looking sick in your gold dress,
just promise me you’ll try to get some sleep.”
A dream’s a dream ‘til you wake up,
but do you ever really wake up?
You’ve been dead for so very damn long.
So I craft this song in hopes you’ll sing a’long,
but I know you’re still sleeping with that made up devil in your head.
Pea coat weather in April?
We can make friends out of ferris wheel lights
as we craft these delicate lines to hide in our hearts.
I’ve never told you a lie,
I’m pretty positive about that.
Do you remember that first kiss and shaking hands at your side?
Or how bad I’ve wanted you since July?
As we fell around the world by the riverside in summer’s wild and reckless breeze.
These memories come easy to me and I hold them like a young kid grabbing his ribs as he laughs at all the things he cannot yet understand.
Staring up at the stars where we’ve stitched our hearts into the constellations,
I’ll always follow these maps home to you.
12:29 AM
If I could retrieve my regrets and throw them in the fireplace
then I might get some sleep.
But I’m not fond of searching for things I’ve misplaced
and Kid, regrets aren’t something you should keep.
The only smoke I’ll see tonight will be from the burning end of a cigarette,
extended over a coffee cup,
after exiting my lungs.
I know better than to start fires I can’t put out.
Writer’s block.
There’s gallows in my stomach where all these words must hang.
I’m tearing through books and records,
but there’s blood spilling out of this pen from the ones I couldn’t save.
and I’m afraid, that I might never fill their empty space.
Complacent dashboard reflections.
I was exploring like Columbus as I grew out my hair
in a picture that sits on my dashboard stained
with the everlasting smell
of a cigarette
in the
air.
I carry most memories like this and I hope we never forget the times we’ve had.
Backseats for sleeping in Spring.
Summer is tiptoeing its way onto the calendar
while everything’s starting to feel new again
as I watch you kiss away the last of my winter skin.
You’re falling asleep so carelessly.
I take comfort seeing you so comfortable and safe with me.
I watch the rise and fall of your breath as the weather returns the scenery where we started our story a year ago.
Don’t worry, Love . I’ll close my dark eyes when I’m ready.
For now I’ll keep steady my world with moon-eyes that’s sleeping quietly between my arms.
