Changes

The Warmth of the day's sunset clashes with the fall's cool night air as the moon rises and wishes the sun a good day on the other side of our planet.

This mash-up of temperature gives us a truly blissful experience and prepares us for the cold winter that will be filled with the sight of our breath, as if steam pours out of our mouths in a gentle "Hello" to remind us that we are still here and the cold won't swallow us completely

Smells like you

Here I sit, as I always do.

Sitting here in a shirt you washed before I left, it smells like you. Smoking a cigarette full of chemicals, thinking of you. Got some new tunes on, I seem to be finding and finding new music these days.

Everything is meant to be, happens for reasons unknown, including what we were. Including the timing of you wanting space and room to grow and change. Maybe you were afraid of becoming stagnant with me. Maybe I was stagnant.

I hate to admit it, but I'm getting off my ass a little bit. Like someone dropped a catalyst on me like a ton of bricks. I've been playing, I've been talking, I've been writing. All it took were a couple of broken hearts.

Life keeps throwing me curves. I've grown closer with people I never thought I would, I've met people that I never thought I would. This shirt smells like you. I miss you with everything in me but not like I did. I still wanna lie in bed with you and talk about the world, while you bug me that we need to get up and be productive. Talking about the world gets me thinking and I like added opinions, I'm being productive. Just not like you.

You feel you've made a mistake. I'm not so sure. You're worried, you think you won't change, you feel your soul is stagnant, but it's not. It just needs some pushes. I'm changing, life looks brighter than it ever did, if I can do this, anyone can, after all, I'm the pessimist, the cynic, the glass half empty guy that always wants it refilled but can't seem to grasp the pitcher.

This shirt smells like you.

Perfume of lovers a past

When someone walks by with her perfume on the scent goes through my nose and up to my brain, completely intoxicating me. Vision blurs, the room starts to spin and waves of nostalgia wash over me and tickle my brain, causing random twinges in my head and makes me dizzy. The air becomes a thick soup of jumbled memories. For a moment, I am home, in the past, where home once was.

But Alas, then it is gone and I'm back where I was. The memories linger in my head, while I smile and miss what I once had. Revel in that old view, Think about what's new, where can I go from here?

Triage, Meritage

I've never stolen before or had the urge to do so. But Baby I want your heart.

Now give me your rythm and I'll dance to your heart beats. So won't you meet me tonight? We'll Kick off our shoes, Dance in the grass, under the stars shakin some ass with the moon smiling down on us in approval.

Oh Isn't it a wonderful night for a moondance? We could be weightless in the anti-gravity and there's no one to care if we're nameless and when the sun comes up to kiss us we'll escape to a bed and I can dance with your heart while I sleep. When we wake I'll make you banana pancakes, because it's the weekend now. But I know you're right. It can't be all the time

5AM

I'm tired of waking up lonely, walking to your room cold and half naked to sit on the floor hugging a chair, resting my head on a dirty old pillow you left behind; while the streams come in intervals like the ocean waves crashing violently on the shores that will wind up slathered in oil.

I drag myself back to my bed, plop that pillow down on my body pillow and throw my leg over it, pretending it's your sweet ass. I feel better and more alone at the same time. I think I can sleep now... even though I'm searching for your heartbeat and the push and pull of your lungs doing their job.

(I've been reading bukowski for those who can't tell)

A bump, A laugh, A vacation

All I want is to be in your embrace, lay in your arms and look at your face and see you smile even if it's just for awhile.

But I'm stuck at work feelin' like dirt and all I can do is think of you to not feel so blue.

Who woulda thought that a bump on the head would bring me you? That someone laughing at me would change my life forever and bring me a thousand and one more laughs? All it took was one conversation for us to know all it took was one conversation to give us someone to always have when we go on vacation so we aren't alone.

Vacation is a funny word....

Today, we play.

Nerves! All I have are nerves and endings and they twitch and twatch and switch and swatch and my stomach is all topsy turvey and swurvey durvey. I guess this is what it feels like to have a gig.

It is.

It's all about the love, not the hate. The good times, those good vibes -- the grooves you get when you cruise or the flow of the bow in your hair.

It's about now, not then not when not if. It's about life but not the future, not the what. not the is.

It's this or it's that but then it's nothing at all. It takes place in summer or in fall. Winter's rare, which isn't fair but that's the way the game is played.

It's tonight it's not tomorrow. Forget about the sorrow.

Sly, Flirtatious sins

sly grins, flirtatious sins, hanging on every word like its absurd.

strung along like its wrong, but it feels so right to have you in sight that I might want to stay here forever, could it get any better? A lock bouncing around my face with such grace while I smile just for a little while. Come 'round here, let your hair down dear, dont be afraid to let go of your fears!

Me and you, you and me, cant anyone see that we're perfect company? They loved you and I'm so blue, is this really true? Words come out like air! I asked but you couldn't bear.

Misery, Midgery.

Midgery oh midgery, where for art thou midgery?
I used to not be able to get rid of you and I acted like a puts.
So now you hate my guts.

the end

First date in 3 years

What oh what are we supposed to do?

Are we oh are we really content with our simplistic conversation and sitting and listening to music? Everyone knows we want to move closer and closer but everytime we think about it our minds just make us think that we should move farther and farther. Who really knows what the other is thinking. Do they really enjoy this? Am I providing enough entertainment? That smile you wear is it genuine? or are you humoring me because I'm green?

All we want is to be next to each other.

No one wants to over do it, how does one know that that the other isn't just putting up with your advances cause they dont want to ruin everything and walk away on those classical tragic awkward paths that we always wind up in.

in the aftermath of glowing through the day dancing around in your mind and generally wishing you were back in the night before this one, these are the thoughts that scroll through a mind like mine, a paranoid worrysome mind.

But in the end, I'll step outside and smoke one of these last cigarettes that you said you didn't need and focus on the wondrous night that we wound up in. I'll start to hide again.

untitled, unfathomed.

I need a bottle. any bottle. I'll drink the rotgut piss of mexicans, scotts, germs or russians. I don't care. It's been awhile since I've wanted to drink myself to sleep, but bottle you have been there for me for 4 years now. Bottle, you are my lonesome only friend. You've also fucked me over when others get ahold of you but I'll let that go, that's them and other bottles, not my bottle. I should have known that night 3 years ago. When I convinced her to drink with me. I should have known where I'd be now. She got a nice buzz and I was already on my way to drunk... Her friends showed up and she left me. Just like she always did. She left.

I feel sick.

Something about this book is killing me a little bit with each chapter it seems, but I keep reading, I want it to turn around. Give me hope oh fictional book, While I may enjoy your truthful counterparts more because it's real, you've reeled me in. I need you as much as you need me to justify your publishing.

It's shit when you grow up with people asking you why you feel bad, what happened what went wrong and you have no answers, you just sit there with the streams rolling. So you stop. You get to the point where streams don't come anymore. You can bounce sadness off of you like a rain drop that never caressed your skin, as if you were covered in the water repellent they put in windshield fluid so it just beads up and rolls off as if it were never there. So then you have this thick skin over your emotion. Then when you actually feel something it almost feels good even though it hurts so much and you don't want it to end, you drag it out untill you are completely exhausted and can't do anything, pull yourself back up off the cool garage floor and piece yourself back together. Then you don't feel again for months or years.