tangential

she told me it was a moment's space
and in the shift i'd follow suit.
but i only half-believe her drunken
wisdom,
thinking love will hold it's own.
so in the darkest hours of morning,
when she stumbles out of my periphery,
i'm not sure it's so cold without
it for the moment.
but it was a moment's space
and in the shift i'd follow suit.
so i think it's all a shame,
a peel from the skin of our years,
that you'd forget to call,
to write,
and give me the simple satisfaction of a
late-night check-in.

a fantasy

somehow it isn't so clear
and they say you'll be okay anyway,
and you'll be okay anyway.
but i thought it was a garden i could wander
listless and awake, but only half -
i saw so much plastic and there wasn't room enough
for a single leaf,
a single green thing.
and let me tell you who i am -
a boy that carried himself across the ocean,
an anomaly in coded words like the grey in your sky,
a careful creature, unsure and without wings.
i can survive the trickiest storms, sometimes. and i've seen surprise
in my own
eyes,
and i pretend that everything is just ...
well, i may be naïve but i open up a little more and i
imagine you see me for what i am. i know what i can say,
and i know that it's okay
to love you.

over coffee

I start the day
And it feels long before
I even step . My . First . Step.
And I take the mug
Beside my bed and drink up
The last bit of bitter dark liquid
nicotine.
I found your note
On the desk beside
The phone. And . I . Read.
And I take the mug
In my hand and set it down
And the last bit of my heart begins
To fail.
*And it felt like lonesome on the ocean
And it felt like lonesome in the orchard
And I dreamt the day away
I found the words to say
And then I lose*
I get on with
My day and I feel slow
Inside my head. And . I . Keep.
And I start the car,
I'm on the road and scared
The light might stick at red
The whole way.
*And it felt like lonesome on the ocean
And it felt like lonesome in the orchard
And I dreamt the day away
I found the words to say
And then I lose*