I Get It

I get it why people get dogs, write break-up songs, I get it all.

I see why we fight, regardless of who’s right- how you feel.

Don’t we just pretend to

care?

Why it was never that simple.

I get that now.

I see the daylight rise while breathing out those we’ve lost.

I get it all.

Where the coffee pursed my lips, the mirage of October waiting in the wings.

And I get why we play dress up, trick or treat, lie to ourselves, lie to our friends.

I mistook our lies for friendship.

How expendable we are.

The beginning never resembles the end.

I almost forget why I came. And I don’t feel the same.

It breaks my heart to know what we left on the table.

Why we gave it away.

I get it, I get it, I get it all now.

Lit Up

I rise and I fall,
so what.
My mind is a racetrack.
I want it all and I want it back,
so what.
I’ve been here before: flashbacks, retreat and starting over.
Not as a rule, just survival.
My mind takes off again.
And there is no plug, no light switch.
There is no way I want this as my routine again.
I gave up so much the last time I got out of the ward.
So what.

Mind peeling away the rinds and underneath I find that I am responsible for the output, and what goes in, and nothing more.

Joyride

I don’t want this ride to end.
So you see it for what it is.
Rainbow spew and hearts renewed
fighting the good fight no one ever wins.

I don’t want this ride to end.
Somewhere ripped from the headlines,
Internet stole you and forced smiles all around.
Look at your facade now.
Nothing to fear, and nothing to dread.
I don’t want this ride to end.

We all run out of gas.
All the exhaust hangs on, hangs out.
You breathe it in and swear its all you have.
There are rings of smoke everywhere you look.
Hide under the low lying clouds, where sunlight has it’s way with you.

I don’t want this ride to end.
Keep your eyes on what’s ahead
…and your hands on the wheel.

Fear of Falling (13th & Chestnut)

I am a sunbeam- a laser beam, the terror stream
Relentless and unborn
Ripped the cap of too many Olde E’s
Stripped the sidewalk, battle worn, re-born (again)
so I can tear myself apart
“You don’t have the guts” she said,
far too gone to start
maimed, and pulled back from the ledge
where I saw my roommates and good friends teeter on the verge, feet across the edge
foolish youth and the sad things we dread.

Me, peering from the scourge
too many memories, not so fond
(A learning process to just hold on)
Long enough to pull me apart and leave me there
crouched in the background, my idle mind
with the empty bottle, the soul to purge,
what was left to keep- what’s yours is yours, what’s yours is mine
The nearest life bleeding and new life, new breathe found
and the cold winter air.
I promised myself that would BE THE LAST TIME!

I don’t want either of you to die, plummet nine stories below.
So I’ll hold you up in mind, my memory careening, inaction;
left on the ledge, afraid to leave
equally terrified to live.

The last man on Earth

I wasn’t meant to feel good today.

That may have been a few days ago. Memories blur… I forget what you look like by now.

Maybe I felt I had value earlier today- serviceable, existing.

But it only takes one leak, one dip under the rising tide and a pissed off sea,
too rampant to care.

Constant trepidation and I can’t figure this out.
There are no open sores, just recoil
and wait for the next wave.

I sink and sink, deeper and deeper and this is the only outlet I have right now.

Or I’m just thinking out loud to myself.

I wasn’t meant to feel good today.

Kill the Lights

No coffee, no beer- no more late nights and false idols.
No love, no sex & No family.
No more using my hand for release. No relief
No pain, no regrets, but that’s a lie.
No more lying to myself.

Grease fires and pistol whipped, so sorry that I can’t take it with me.
I put faith in people and things
but they just let me down, and I let me down and now you look at me to share truth.

No more strip clubs, falling off stools- and throwing money at satin skin and broken homes
A life I could never possibly know.
Drown out the hollers for more- we forgive them
And can’t look at ourselves.

No more sleepless nights- you can’t tell them apart
The days bleed out, insomniac, double back & sewage
where the flies circle and circulate
no amount of liquid poured into your stomach allows you to forgive yourself.

No thoughts of death, no more Big Macs,
Pull the stopper on the tub
No more delusions or illusions
No pills for deafening the pain
No allusions that there’s any other way.
No forgiveness, just aftermath
No regrets