Everything’s Remembered: Nothing’s Ever Cured

You told me to work on myself

If I could I’d be somebody else

Somebody whose actions,

aren’t forms of distraction—

You make it easy to believe

My head’s a wasteland for stupidity

When someone else is the problem,

we spend our life trying to solve them—

I was a sucker and amiable host

It felt like trying to rescue a ghost

All these words for no reason,

just disappear without meaning—

It’s just something you keep for yourself

When it feels like there’s nobody else

Whispering through the silence,

a recipe full of violence—

But the one thing I learned to believe

Is that nothing’s quiet as it seems

The beating drum in the distance,

now I feel it in my chest—

So when you feel almost alone

It’s not a life sentence just pick up the phone

There’s a recording in my head,

it says our time here’s not pointless—

If it feels like talking to yourself

Then you’re probably talking to yourself

Sometimes to answer life’s questions,

the answer’s in your reflection…

Lonely and the Sun

You know, I don’t have the answers

but if you want to talk that’d be ok

I’ve got a feeling you’ve grown silent in pain.

I know, it hasn’t been easy

but life just sort of happens that way

my ears are open when you feel you’ve something to say—

there’s static in all of us

for no reason white noise fills the day

like a kid forced to blindly trust

it’s only natural to push them away

perhaps, I just thought

you’d something to say—

You know, perfection’s the opposite

of how I’m feeling today, but it’s pure

like you and I’d have it no other way

I know, my actions don’t reflect

these words but I hope that’s ok

I’ve got a long road home getting further away—

there’s demons in all of us

for a price we keep them at bay

growing up it’s the opposite

now it’s them who push us away

perhaps, I just thought

you’d something to say—

cause it’s lonely and the sun

is calling your name.

That sweet little kid

What’s the point of a smile

if it doesn’t mean what it’s supposed to

then you’re in denial—

There’s more truth in a frown

when you’re bending over to see

the world upside down—

That sweet little kid,

the mind of a child

speaking a language we knew

before the fire went wild—

Who gave you that scar?

The one you hold onto like it’s

some kind of reward—

When I ask myself

this sort of question

it feels, like I’m someone else—

That sweet little kid

dug deep in a hole

still forging forward

when he’s got nowhere to go—

Time’s a delicate cut

healing over and over

your have and have nots—

Life’s a school picture day

we smile for flash bulbs

then like memories fade—

That sweet little kid

with a stomach of knots

his hands are bleeding, clenched

with a fistful of rocks—

The point? I guess is to give

hope to the child you lost

becoming this thing—

This burden of flesh

it’s beautiful yet

our soul is the reason

we’re here, now don’t you forget—

That sweet little kid,

that sweet little smile

we offered the world ours

now who, just who’s in denial?

Eastern Treasure/Innocuous Pleasure

his mind was made

up of the past, like

living in a rear window

her car it stalled

out in the back of

some place that they used to go

her ripped blue jeans his uncouth smile

the moon hung like a martyr

the engine gave no reconcile

her eyes said I live closer than farther

his hands were firm

when you held them

you’d swear they could give you more

her lips they held

so many secrets

when they kissed he could surely tell

her crooked smile his plain white t-shirt

was stained with the morning after

his apathy when she said her head hurt

felt like a sitcom without the laughter

they parted ways

like in the movies

left their marks and headed home

her mind was made

up of the past, like

either way he’s sure to go

she walked alone it’s what she asked for

the moon hung like a martyr

he held his tongue like eastern treasure

come on tell me what’s the matter



and everyone

you ever loved

will one day

find themselves

at a crossroad—

where you’ll be


pocketing fists

hunched like a Lily,

or else dancing

ripped like paper

on a wall full of flowers

looking lovely—

except they won’t know you

anymore, not anymore

than you know your own self—

cheeks, rosy as embers

the lush on the floor,

I’ll know his name well

you bet I’ll be singing—

So best get to knowing,

before you regret

a lifetime pretending

you’ve remembered only

to forget.

Ashes to Ashes

There’s no denying that’s a pretty face
There’s no excuse still for being late
The corner store’s got a sale on
Greeting cards that sell have price love
There’s truth in breathing at an even pace
There’s beauty bending to bear the weight
Now either way you feel overwhelmed
Exchanging coffee for whiskey now
I’ve got a big bad wolf of a habit
Full of hot air and over dramatics
Got a house built solely of glass when
I huff and puff well nothing happens
I gave her cashmere for Christmas once
She gave me friendship when I had none
There’s proof in putting a sweater on
The back of someone you’re giving up
I’ve got a big bad wolf of a habit
Full of disdain for love when I have it
Got a house built solely of glass and
No stones left to throw just ashes ashes

At the airport

And just like children

stuck on an island—

while in line at the airport—

we turn order into chaos

clubbing one another

for a better boarding class,

elbows at the ready

on armrests made for war—

“This. Is. Ridiculous!”

shouts one

“It’s an outrage!”

cries the other—

All our flights delayed

with boulders on the mind.