Everywhere Seems To Be A Masquerade

Late night blurs vs. the clarity of morning light. Never too sure who is gonna show up or who's gonna (not)call in sick.

New years. The last few have been worse than the previous. Like a parade of dreams breaking and marching out of my life, trampling one another.

Sleeping in between cities. I'm up to the hips with dreams. It's their smiles and clinking drinks at cocktail hour, but its always me at this time of night.

Hips pressed close to mine – true blue. The way they talk about you isn't even close. Honestly though, I'm vacant baby, and I'm checking out. Kiss me electric. Leave my best days in memories, and my best lines closed tight in books.

New York transit love affair. The veins going underneath the streets that feel so foreign yet endearing. It's not charm, I just don't get it. Trust me (but not really). Couch living (dead) has me hanging onto phone lines. I'm not making sense and my throat is sore. Maybe at least you know I mean it.

There is a breadcrumb trail of melancholy that leads back up to my bed or maybe out of your third floor window, depending on who is following it.

In the beginning I was only planning on holding on to you and using you recreationally, but then I started needing you at nights and then all of the time. The not remembering is what gets to me the worst.

Look Alive Kid

The smell of perfume and stale cigarette smoke is still on my hoody. I can't keep my nose from it. I cross my fingers and hope you keep making an exception for me. I'm like a fix that you need, so save me for when you're broken. All of these hushed "I need yous" are heard by everyone else.

Fiction tastes just like you sometimes. So real. Bitter regrets, predictable forfeits. I see us in between the following quotes. "Better in the long run" always means sleeping alone.

I'll take responsibility for my words, but the intentions behind them just might mean so much more.

Brush your finger tips on my eyelids. Promise you'll wake me when it's time.

This Scripted Life

None of this is real anymore. We're all just exaggerating for their pleasure. The truth is all too useless.

Do you ever feel like you've been left behind, and that the enemy is just over the next hill? Sometimes it's ok to burrow deep. That's usually where you end up finding out who you really are. When I rise from this bunker I plan on laying down some massive cover for all of you to escape. I'll stay here through my last clip, if it means you're better off.

Her heart is an intercepted package that was meant for me, and I'm missing what I'll never have.

We were all wrong about me this year.

Tequila Mockingbird

Whiteout conditions, but it doesn't really matter. There is nothing to see here anyway. All I want for Christmas is my family back again. I just want the four of us together. In the mean time, (for)give and (mis)take at your leisure.

Shook down and left lonely for the holidays. Even the look in complete strangers eyes tell me that I've been no damn good this year.

No word from the east coast for awhile. Midwest hearts are heavy. Now I'm locked in a stare-down with my phone and penned in on all sides.

Your habits are more confusing than the tread from the tire tracks that are intersecting our body language. It's cutting us like the fresh snow. Here's to your heart. Here's to your name. Heres to laying low.

My Plane Didn't Crash This Time Either

From a dingy bar on the lower west side. The subway rumbling beneath is a reminder to keep things moving.

Most of my strength comes in the form of an avalanche, late night heartache and new friends... These streets breed them both.

Threw some back with a gem, while exchanging literary heroes until sunrise. Refreshing seems to cover it all.

Airport security isn't going to allow me to check these bags under my eyes.

I check my cellphone before the alarm clock on mornings like this.

You're Just A Crime Scene

Through these eyes of disbelief I have mastered the art of the dead-pan stare... in and out of focus.

Proceed as planned. Expose the fuse and strike the match. Let everything burn, leave nothing behind.

Escape routes in the form of runways. The engines are running and we have clearance from the tower. No one is going home tonight.

Crawled in bed with my truest comfort. I'd stay behind for you.

Happy Hour Heroes

We've got a way with the world that makes the drinks wild in the afternoon. I promise to take the blame for us both as long as you'll guide me home. I heart the way that we've become like ghosts in photographs. Developed.

My home is a lonely box that holds me back, and you understand that just enough to keep me away.

We write contracts on napkins and make big plans.

Heartbeat Symphonies

Winter in NY is calling. I crave chapped lips, Midtown mornings, and Village nights.

I was back and forth until they pulled me forward and now NYC is only a few days away. We are the newest products of this 21st century. Responsive, and irresponsible.

Go ahead and write the labels on our wrists, and make sure to tie a tag around our necks. We'll cost you more than you can take. I'm sure I remember warning you that I'm more than a hand full. We are like the fog... only mist/missed when gone.

Everyone will run when you lose your decoration. Nobody really likes what's underneath, but the true ones will come through... just as they have for me lately.

Once again, cans of red paint are lined up to paint the town. A December to remember is falling into place.

BeastsOfEast11th AngelsAndKings

Sunday Morning Sleepovers

Always up or down, never down and out... unless I'm in the mood for it.

Starting to realize that there is no use in nervousness. If you're worried about making a fool of yourself then don't think about it. Honestly, the people that matter don't care and the people that care don't matter.

Don't just save yourself when you could save them all.

My life is holding this gun to our heads.

If you'll Be My Saint, I'll Be Your Sin

I'm not like you. I don't have the luxury of being recharged. I long for a lithium heart.

I guess the truth is that I'm scared to death that I'm going to die in my sleep. I don't know if anyone will ever get any of this. My whole existence is being spent in an upright coma. Even without the medicine, I still feel it all. I don't have to be awake to be aware... Just as a blind man can still sense another person in the room, I can feel thier lack of understanding.

I want the wild fucking west. I want to place love in handcuffs, and to earn a lot more scars.

If I was in charge the first rule would be to never sleep. The second would be to write without thinking it through. Read it aloud and see if it's really about you.

This time of year makes me want to call up every contact in my phone just to tell them I'm sorry for how everything turned out. Behind every breath hides a word that is waiting for it's chance to be spoken... Hoping to make the difference.

I'm in love with the way we destroy our way through the afternoons.

Seeking Safe Landings On Sharp Objects

What made you think that I couldn't find the door in the morning, when I found that bed so easily in the dark?

Been practicing my "I'm better off alone" face in the mirror lately. I almost have it down.

Curse is just another word for forever. My name is just another word for regret.

I Want To Be Your Grand Finale

I'll repeat: when I said I'd return to you I meant it more like a relapse.

It's not death I fear, it's the funeral. There is nothing worse than being locked inside here just to have everyone chalk this up to a chemical.

I see the dollar signs in their eyes when we hang. I'm just a hall pass to them. But the halls are empty and need company. Truth is, we are all just waiting for the bell to ring so we can go home. I just lack direction.

Got another writing credit on something you'll hear this Spring. Get ready for The Cab. They're our next great ride into '08.

Intertwined friends and Sunday morning smirks are my new favorite thing. It's not quite romance just yet, but it will do.

cruciFIXED

Came out of boredom and woke up to a mess. The only ring I want buried with me is the one around these eyes. Baby blues mixed with bloodshot red. Stared at them in the rear view the entire drive home this a.m. Thanks to my ambulance at the bottom of the cliff. I'm not afraid to jump anymore.

Got a place on Bedford in NYC that doubles for my heart. I can't wait to breathe the concrete again.