...hesitate

Blistering my feet only to find out that this staircase is an escalator. I've been writing love letters on the back of maps just to see if I can get the courage to mail them out. If I Fed-Ex my love would you sign for my heart?

I'm pretty sure that the sand in my hair is from the hourglass. The after taste is going to bruise my heart. Dreams are only weapons lately.

Gramercy Park will fix all of this. NYC bound.

Waiting on the murmur to kick in. Nothing is as lonely as knowing you're not supposed to still be around. I'm even late for my own ending. Diagnose that.

Please remember me happily by the water, laughing with bruises on my chin.

Miss Scarlet... In The Ballroom... With The Revolver

I thought that love was alive, but love was just a lie last night. This is becoming a wedding for the recently deceased.

I've been seeing your face in my sleep. The doctor says its perfectly normal but I'll play the role of the skeptic for a little while longer. Just an overdose or two for old times sake. That'll do.

I'm The Traffic Light In Your Early AM

There are a million orphan questions tugging at these torn jeans, just begging for a home that has long since burnt down. Sometimes the sun is as clouded as my mind. Waiting on trains that don't even run anymore.

Lost beneath the sheets and swimming in your smile. Listening to your heart beat through your chest. It's the only thing to remind me that this is real. Moments with you have been captured in time and handed out on the street corners of my heart.

Still dreaming in sequence, just enough to remember the downfall, but never the rest. Lately my nightmares have had me lying awake until the corners of my eyes beat red. I'll just be over here rubbing tomorrow's sand out of last night's eyes.

ICantWaitToGetAlive

Get Me Right

All of this is really just my reflexes, addressing the ever present lull. Pen to paper in hopes of a resolution and such.

My thoughts serving as the The FAA to my fleeing emotions. Line each one up on the runway for departure. Tell the pilot to hold her steady and don't look down.

Sun filtering through partially cracked blinds. Shimmering near my feet on the carpet below. It feels like this should be some Louisiana court room in the middle of an Indian summer. Slow fans spinning to the rhythm of nothingness. As if fate has all the time in the world.

Wasted... My own daylight. Ive been loading the chamber and taking chances with the trigger for years now. It could be so much worse. I can't wait until we can speak of this in past tense.

As The Town Gathers Around The Soldier We Carried Home

There's a home that I have that I don't visit in person, but with prayers. The mirror said that I look like I have ran out of pills, but he laid off when I reminded him that I have been staring at my best friends stone.

Sleeping dog beside me. The only thing that speaks to me is your shape in the doorway. I'm more than ready for the cooling winds of Fall to blow the covers off the perfect bed I've made. I'm tired of trying to find myself in every strangers eye. I've got a fever, and a childish wish for snow.

I really just want to be the rain on your doorstep. I'll just pile that on top of all of the other wants from the day that make me curse in my sleep through the night.

I'll be the one dreaming of the way that the scars in our eyes are mirror images that align when we kiss.

I'd leave all of this on your voice mail, but I want it for myself. Selfish me, by the keyboard.

drOWNed

Suffocate me with who you think I am. Maybe then I'll breathe myself back into the both of us. Ownership is so last year. We are all for rent.

There is so much wonder in the "I could, but I choose not to's.." when they're staring in the face of the "I'm doing this just because I cans'.

I only hope I'm hitting the keys in the same sequence that my mind is telling my finger tips to... as we try to reach each other.

If the meaning is so lost, it's only poetic.... in the Romeo vs. Juliet kind of way. The same teams for the same sorry, (mis-placed) dreams.... until it's documented... and then we will all re-write every single word...

It's our Anniversary 1988 - Now(here)

It's Here

Made eye contact with the consequences this afternoon. Been suffering a great loss, but I have yet to identify exactly what it is. I know that didn't make any sense. None of me does this time of year. The blues and browns haven't been doing me justice, or vice versa.

With black ink guilt I promise to always be right there to split your lips.

Show me a little bit of spark. I'll do the rest. I swear...

we'rewellreadandpoised

From 1008, Swissotel Chicago

Being ahead means being behind a velvet rope some of the time. Away from the excitement. It's only funny... in the grass is always greener kind of way. Retraced the last 365 this week and thought I broke even, but I've found a heavy heart with a skyline letdown beyond the horizon.

I am the sugar coating on the pills you eat before you lay cold for twelve hours.. waiting for the sun to die again before you make your rounds.

Dialed for the truth but I was re-directed to another li(n)e.

And I Know I Should Be Home

Words are fireworks, and I've been warned not to play with them so casually. You'll get burnt. What can I say? I just love the way the fuse dangles... almost as much as I love the smell from the after burn.

You are the blackened streak on my driveway the morning after. Next day memories of a well lit sky.

Placed myself in a duffel bag again. Got friends to see and work to do.

An Heir To Misfortune

I wonder what kind of pills she swallows, to get her that hopeful. I'm so bland of late. Wishing for hair dye and cheap alcohol. Anything but this stagnant lifestyle. It's like my head needs an upgrade, but I don't have enough bandwidth to download the update.

From passing out to passing judgment, my dreams are becoming subtitled reruns. And I've run out of bookmarks to preoccupy myself with on this couch.

Someone send the divers. Creativity is somewhere below. Every air bubble on the surface could have been it's last breath.

Crying Only Adds Salt To The Wounds

It's the world vs. you and me and we're ahead a point. Just run out the clock baby. Because breathing was the best idea anyone ever had.... I've been doing alot of that lately. Each in and out is another notch on the bottle...keeping the bright blues away from my system.

My head above shoulders. The weight of the world is resting on anything that it can, other than my conscience.

There's a light on in Chicago.

The Difference Between A Parlor Trick and True Blue Magic

Do you follow the letters that my fingers are laying down? Is the distraction in the question... or is it in the consequence?

I once kissed the devil but the taste was bland so I'll stick to kissing Angels like you. NYC was a dream that ended to early. I want shut eye-lids and alarm clock anticipation.

Racing through the city, sitting in the back of yellow checkered cars. The take-offs are the absolute worst... but the skin from your shoulder to your ear makes it all worth it. I'm sorry for the way that my moods flicker on and off like an old light on your porch, but I know you wouldn't have it any other way.