From Room 406, Somewhere In Virginia

Is it just me or are we writing ourselves in circles? Craving something new. We are all neighbors on this writer's block. Pack your journals for a new location. On our way out, as the city burns down... take notice as the children in their beds arise to hold the hands of the fallen.

She is three times the lady that I've ever had. That's the secret behind the fear in my eyes. Cubing the potential for loss and such. "Silly boy, isn't it time that you have a little faith in yourself?"

A flower is blooming in a vacant city. It's a place where words flow and imagination never peaks. It's a place that should be home. Let's bring ourselves there.

I'm Not Looking For Day Traders, Only Investors. Someone That Enjoys Seeing Their Stocks Mature.

"home"

In college I learned that Da Vinci's painting "the Mona Lisa," has no eye brows because they were the last detail that the artist added. One day back in the 17th century a restorer used the wrong solvent and wiped them off forever. Sometimes I feel like I've been using the wrong solvent on myself. Wiping away the original and all.

Hearts on backorder. Save Chumley's. All that we can do is write our names and cross our fingers. Every piece of home has been disappearing upon return. I only want it all back. There is nothing worse than returning home to signs that read "Condemned," and temporary memorials for friends.

Sometimes I swear I'm a genius, without the last two letters to back me up. I'm in love with being treated like a charity. We all love to receive. Dissect me visually, but only from a far. Microscopic judgment is so last year.

LetTheMoodDoTheThinking

Cyanide Dependent

The truth about forever is it's not. But I guess you were already aware of that. I'm challenging blood cells to games of kiss and run around your veins. I've spent all of this time raising hell, but now that it's grown up and moved out, I don't know what to do with myself.

The pills and I are on the same side. We're both anti-anxiety. Little armies of hope in capsules. Why am I on the front line alone?

TheCornersOfMyMouthAreHeavyForYou

Discuss and Distrust

From room 36 in the Night Hotel... 45th and Broadway. We are on the other side of stop signs on Bedford. Live in Times Square for all to see... riding along and below the city streets. We are lovehostage. We're stuck.

Literally bounced off a wall this morning. Only to see you smile. The rest of this foolishness is just me tipping over a rusty bucket and letting everything run down a hill... collecting in cracks and sometimes going off course. I know this probably makes no sense whatsoever to people outside the glass, but right now I'm sitting in this see through room and this is the only way I know to make sense of myself. TrueJetBlue.

We're not getting old, we're just getting vintage. We'll find ourselves in thrift shops and antique stores someday. When was the last time you felt proud of me? Place me in the dollar bin and move on.

I'm dreading the absence of sirens and pitchmen with fliers. A penny for the homeless, a dollar for a slice, and a credit card for the loneliness. Bar tab junkie. Switching flights has become like tapping the syringe to keep things pure. Avoid the flight home. One last shot before we hit the sky. There are two receipts on top of the mini bar to prove I bought everything you've ever said. "Immortality was lost as she put her lips to the (big)apple..." I understand her temptation.

I Kept My Word

I swore that I would let you down. This life is just one big typo... while the inside of my head is out of breath, from all this jumping from here and there. The kids are all so fucked up, but no one even stopped the party. 911 must have taken the night off.

Silly girl, you're always going to be described as the first three letters in"considerate." This is the face of wanting to slumber past eternity. Every sip is another tear in the screen door. I'll always be the family dog, longing for the world outside. One day the screen will tear and I'll run wild. It's the only thing that I've ever lived for. Sylvia Plath in hand.. that's how I'm living.

They always seem surprised when I suffer from an outburst. Not you though. You know where I bury it. I see the fear in your eyes but I can't turn it all around. We have gained too much speed, pumping the brakes will only shake us up before impact. I only wanted to deliver you in a safe manner.. I never meant for you to be a passenger.

If we were a notebook, I'd rip out all of the pages just to start over. I wouldn't throw them away though, I'd take notes from all of the good parts.

Exit To Exit, Dust To Dust

My smile reflects the skyline. Lack there of or otherwise. Let's just say my dentist has prescribed a Big Apple. Arcadia has left the map. It's our new Atlantis. A shovel and a compass.... searching to dig.

The man I used to be gave me a call today. He asked me how I was doing... I said "better than you.." and then hung up. Yet they still harass me for not returning phone calls. The other end of the line is often meant for someone else.

My heart feels sad, but almost relieved. It makes more sense like this. Surreal can be defined by the admitted liar asking you why you have trust issues. Save ink, write truth. Save breath in the same manner.

Remember when "showing them where your heart is at" was a positive action?

TalkedOver is the same as WalkedOver

In No Particular Order

I want nothing to do with me. Absence makes this heart grow stronger. Lately my brain has been taking fiction, shaking it up, and turning it into fact. I can’t be alone with me. I'm pretty sure if you look close enough, you're going to be able to see the red ribbon trail of somberness leading the way through my eyes. This fabric(ation) is filled with such flaws. Watch as my mind is run over by the ambulance.

Todays date is so meaningful for once.

Try, Fail, Try, Fail, Lie, Flail, Try, Fail, Fail, Fail, Quit

This Easter I'm a High Glucose Lover

I wouldn't know a day without the taste of my own blood. I'm the worlds worst shaver. More scars than accomplishments on this s(h)elf. Carrying the burdens of my parents because I could never find out who I really am. And now that I'm giving it a try, I don't like what I see. Normalcy is not a word that grazes my lips nor paces through my life. Turned away from Camelot. I have permanent prints of my hands on my face from all the times they've rested their.

I can't take me anymore... and I can't take you anywhere.

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."
-c.s. lewis

Backup Batteries in Alarm Clocks

You know those kids, the ones that used to be hiding out underneath your staircase. Hidden away, stashed and stowed. "You are an embarrassment to this family!" Well just in case you didn't happen to hear... they got out. I'm pretty sure I saw them on my TV yesterday with skinny jeans and guitars. A microphone to yell they're prayers. I don't always have a microphone but I do have a keyboard and a screen.

Now or later? Like candy, but just with how I feel. Thank God I have had so many reasons for smiles lately. Not picture smiles. Just the kind we had before all the worry started. And I for one can't really remember that far back. I'm sure it's in a history book somewhere. Dust it off for me and read me to sleep.

Round six in the "me vs. myself" battle. I know the right words are gonna come soon. They'll spill out. Woke up doused in blood this morning. I'm not sure if more came from my mouth or my nose. Allergies and moonlit mornings. Maybe the sparkle in my eye is just draining red.

I've been feeling ugly on the inside and no matter what anyone says or does its the only thing going in my ears. Let all of this/me be a lesson to you... there is a point in making it through unscathed. The whole point can be summed up in one word.. "catharsis." I firmly believe this is all coming down to one point... it's all about getting better... to be ok and to be ok with being ok. Do the math to figure all of this out. If you caught me smiling a bit more than usual, it's just cause some tow-truck pulled me out of the ditch and my headlights are pointed the right way again.

God's my favorite artist. Do you know what it feels like to be the work of the greatest artist that ever lived? But even Monet did sketches. It's not so euphoric to be the "yeah its good, but not by far his best work". Scribbled in close quarters with a head flowing. You know, when ideas keep you up all night and you fidget in your seat trying to make the pen move as fast as you. That's where I'm at. Throwing it all in reverse with a keyboard.

I believe in angels again. From 16 yrs old, lost between Fashion and Broadway, to a flat tire on 77 in a drunken stupor. They still show up for me. It's the least I can do to love them back.

Compare Me To An Aftershock

If you desire to be the man on top you will at one point be asked to stand alone. And it comes as no secret that we all only have 2 to stand upon... With that in mind, let it be known that at some point I will go for the leg like Daniel. An even surface... that's all I've ever wanted.

What happens when we arrive at the realization that we both liked ourselves better in the fall... Will we wait it out?.. Do we even have it in us to make it to the cold? As of late, cleaning myself up only makes me feel more dirty.

And in the midst of traffic I saw a license plate on an 18 wheeler that could have led me home to you. But I veered right... and you veered left... and I haven't thought twice about turning around. How about you? I've been meaning to call home, but what can I do when MY favorite SONG keeps playing on the radio?

You will always be the water to my asphalt. Let the rain drown me out. Force me to collect puddles for you. We both know that when the cold of winter returns you'll drive over me hoping that the tread won't split, and that I will still draw you towards me once again.

I'm forever on an interstate of sleeplessness. Where the patrolmen wear badges engraved with the title "reality enforcer."

Every pill you swallow is just the button on the cruise control... speed up.. slow down... speed up... slow down... maintain.... maintain. Forever a cruise control lover. Just keep it below 75. Heart rates to MPH.

An acoustic guitar, a dead end boat, and my dog by my side. The perfect checklist for an afternoon in search of an island, some peace, and solitude.

Summer has been replaced with Self-Destruction once again in my seasonal dictionary. But we all know that alphabets are for lo(v)sers.

I'm center stage, and all of the houselights are on... exposing my every imperfection.

You are refreshing. But not like deep breathes, more like the internet browser kind of way. It's more of an accusation than a compliment.