As If We Existed

It wasn’t ever fun

Even when it lasted

There was always hidden

A motive and agenda

Something I couldn’t figure from afar—

I needed microscopic certainty

That I’d have to disappear

In order to remember—

For them to forget—

That either of us had ever existed

Flipping Birds

The only places to go now

Are those best traveled alone

Where a fork in the road need

Neither argument nor discussion

And where judgements pass

With tumbleweeds and dust that

Dissolve like cars with the horizon

Thumbing South of nowhere

And flipping birds, eh

I’ll be just fine.

What Could Possibly Matter More Than Meaning What You Don’t Have The Answers For?

What’s the point in asking the question

If your voice is already defeated

I’d go blind just trying to see it

You know everyone is trying to beat it—

If there’s pain then that means there’s a reason

If there’s truth then it’s hard to believe in

Still it’s hard not to relive this feeling

Where everyone everyone’s stealing—

It’s like selling your grief for a grievance

Why the hell would you even break even

Doing all we could to deceive them

It’s all wasted time wasting time healing—

It’s like playing pretend dressed in your skin

Or saying the pledge of allegiance

When there’s no one to please or believe in

It only matters as much as you mean it

Real Life.

We did nothing that we said we’d do

And everything we said we wouldn’t.

Living like a road trip—

We’re so good at vacations, yet

So terrible at real life.

drunks and dreamers

I like to sit, in long

Wakes of silence

And write cowboy songs

For drunks and dreamers

Who know better

And are better—

Who are better off alone.

Hotel Room

Sitting in this hotel room, waiting for the sun to rise.

Looking out across Portales, there’s not a single star in the sky.

I don’t know if she’s thinking of me, but I know I’m thinking of her.

All the times we never got it straight, all the times I didn’t put her first.

Sitting in this hotel room, tried but couldn’t fall asleep.

Spent all of my cash on Johnny, cause he’s a better man than me.

I don’t know if she’s thinking of me, but I know I’m thinking of her.

All the times we never got it straight, all the times I didn’t put her first.

It’s a long drive West.

And I’m on my own.

She said do your best.

Know you’re not alone.

Sitting in this hotel room, wondering if I made a mistake.

Gotta find what I’ve been missing, and bring it back to her to keep.

Rudimentary Silence

Only in the slightest

Contradictions find us

Taking a piss in the back of a waiting

Rudimentary silence

Little acts of violence

Testing the waters like leaving the bathtub

Full of standing water

Babies left to wander

Dipping our beaks in a pool not so shallow

Now—

Actions without reason

God I’ve got this feeling

Down like the old folks whose tennis balls are wearing out

Obligations find us

Contradictions bind us

Tight like a truckers hitch secured to nothin but

Ourselves if we’re willing

To hold someone who’s willing

To kick the creator for all the stupid shit we’ve been through

Now—

Everybody wants their own way

Standing on clouds there’s no reason to shout out loud

When everybody gets their own way

I can guarantee somebody won’t be pleased (laugh out loud)

friends from strangers

Now I make my friends from strangers

who hardly ever consider my passing,

who instead make plans to bullshit

and practice talking casually in the park.

Hollywood Boulevard

Nobody seems to notice the homeless

Except the little girl

Piggy backing her fathers shoulder

Slouching, down Hollywood Boulevard

French New Wave Lifestyles

She seemed relatable

like a French new wave film—

Her hair was tangled by

the absence of the thrill—

My mind fell blind in the dark

each movement felt removed

In black and white it all looks like

some senseless noir doom.

Descending ladders with a

backwards forward view—

Replaced reminders taken

for some other you—

She stepped calm in the light

another foreign move

In black and white it all seems like

you just might make it through.

Now there’s a towel on the floor

white as a dove

Transcending shadows as if

orders from above

The clock just turns and spins

a spiral of what’s lost

In black and white it all feels like

we’re dying to be caught.

In black and white it all looks like

there’s nothing to turn off.