warm nostalgia.

via *

eyes wide open 

through the night, 

never enough sunlight. 

sleeping through the morning 

most everyday.  

we greet a cloudless sky, 

make our way outside. 

we had one meeting place, 

for a few months after May.

an unlicensed drive, 

try to outrun our lives.  

perfect song on repeat.  

I couldn't tell 

what it would mean to me. 

but we kept up a decent pace, 

for those few months after May.  

you wonder if it will be this way.  

next year, the next day.  

wondering how long we'd last 

on nothing but sun rays.  

living only for the summer, 

never counting days.  

it wouldn't be this way. 

but we kept it up like no one could,

for those few months after May.

itch.

I never could decide on an identity
there were too many options other than me
pick a favorite
then feel insecure
cast it aside
always unsure
my eyes begging a question
"which do you prefer?"

an ever-present itch
a boundless insecurity
gnawing away at my identity
at the tail end of every statement I made
in the back of my mind
any expression
communicates apprehension

so how could I blame you for losing sight of me
mirroring your every action
anticipating your perceptions
I got lost in the reflection
a shrug of your shoulders
there was nothing left to see

Lovely:

–adjective

1.  charmingly or exquisitely beautiful: a lovely flower.

2.  having a beauty that appeals to the heart or mind as well as to the eye, as a person or a face.

3.  delightful; highly pleasing: to have a lovely time. 

  
Filling empty space with echoes of you

every night.

My walls now covered in your face

like it'd help.

Well, I thought it might.

Would you wake me when you leave?

I know you're not staying long

as I'd like.

These words I'll never say to you

keep me company 

through the night.

I wish for some new sedative,

steady my breathing, 

close my eyes.

One glance and you will see

my heart holds you responsible

for what's been done to me.

It was you singing songs to me when we had nothing better to do.  It was me, feeling like there was no better way my time could be spent.  Considering how those rich melodies would cloud my mind like some vaporized narcotic.  In the midst of so much lip contact, such a small amount of eye contact.  Though I would strain myself to keep from blinking - to keep you from vanishing - a stimulant I couldn't operate without.  And though any contact with you only seems to result in humiliation, I've just got all of this room I could spare.  There is no way you would come and no way I would ask - It's just that I have so much I could share.

I haven't seen your face in what might as well be years.

But, dear recollection, you're everywhere.

You're as good as tangible.

We climb these great heights

just to get a little perspective.

We hold someone up

when they're weak or rejected.

I like to see the bigger picture

like I like to live in this house way up on a hill.

I'd be glad to hold you up,

yeah, I'd say it's a good mixture.

I'd hold you up if you would just stay still.

And I wonder at the genius of the sky,

the way it resembles that body of water underneath.

Or maybe it's the ocean that mimics the heavens above;

I can't say it ever mattered to me.

But if you were here first,

then it's yours,

of course.

If you were here before me,

by all means,

ignore me.

You were here in the first place,

So watch me serve it to you on a silver plate.

You were here first,

so take it,

it's yours.

Of course.

Too much of me is like a sugar OD.  Your stomach aches, your head throbs from the inside out, and your only choice, the only thing you want to do is sleep it off.  Carve little pieces of me out.  Here I am, and anything valid about this warped frame is what you left behind.  Breathe another fragment of my existence in each second, and I don't know how you live without it anymore.  So I'm working with this rough edge, and I'm smoothing out the corners.  I need to erase all of your complications.  Need to simplify all of these shadows and run through the echos until I reach that blank, blank space. I thought I'd cut you down to size before you leaped out of my heart again.  I'm diluting the substance that made you up. 

reality vs. substance

Your presence is like a disease 

and it's spreading through the room.

You're nothing sober,

you try to hide it.

I can see it with no defense, 

no ability or will to fight it.

You're stumbling through the door,
it's nothing I haven't seen before.

All these years,
All these years and I still don't know 

who this person is,

who you've become.



Look at your reflection and tell yourself

that you're in control.

Say that you know what you're doing.

Keep telling yourself
 that this is the last time.
At least one of us is convinced.
But it only takes one look 

into those flat, opaque eyes

and I can see
 I've lost you again.

Your thoughts swayed with alcohol
 -
Your main intention to forget us all.


Slowly giving away all the secrets

That you've tried so desperately to hide.
While rolling over 

and off your bed
,
You slur something about suicide.

So dress it up, make it real
.
Keep lying to yourself

about how you really feel
.
Take in that bottle

as if there's anything to prove,

like you have nothing to lose.

Come on, seal the deal

.

This substance
,
This is your disease

And you'd easily choose it over me

.

So dress it up, make it real

Keep lying to yourself

About how you really feel
.
This substance
,
This is your disease

And you've chosen it over me.