It’s 1:02 p.m.
on a Wednesday
I am waiting to take a test
1:03 p.m.
and I am willing
to test my willingness
to stay here
in a town that moves
on the back
of a razorblade.
They never say
what we are waiting for
here
in the quiet
resistance
like the eye of the storm
on the softest sheets.
I have become an antique,
a collectible,
a hollow instrument
used for my city’s defense.
I have begun
to move backwards,
erasing time
in a land where
clocks don’t tick
and lights don’t blink.
Love
here
always moves like the weather –
moving
churning
spilling
breathing
forcing
uncompromising
is the love of Mother Nature.
If I had met you
before the government won
or after my mind
became a gun
I would love you
I would love you
I would love you
better.

This espresso tastes like poison,
In spite of all I've added to cover the sweet bitterness

I want to release rather than increase
Release rather than increase

My mind is full, from my ears to my neck to my head,

A consistent pressure throbs
It robs me of peace
Of Mind

We all go through it
We are slaves
We are victims
Of long forgotten systems

We live to work, and work to live
Work to eat, and eat to work
An endless cycle of compromise

Open your eyes
Your senses
Smell the prosperity, the disparity
The paradox
Watch the rise of Pandora's Box

Feed, greed, need
I've planted the seeds of doubt
And watched them grow
Into luminous, prosperous trees

They are silhouettes against the sun
And against the backdrop of the moon

You live in a cocoon
Awaiting a metamorphosis that may or may never be
I live in a cocoon
Awaiting a metamorphosis that may
Or may never
Come

When reading this title,
Did you think it was a close call?
A thought of suicide by rifle?
A day when I learned to fall?

This title explains my thoughts
Right now, at this moment.
I barely found myself, caught.
I'm less important than a floret.

You can't explain how you feel
When you fail at something
Which you thought you could do
When you think about it, it's not funny.

It's hard to try to tell you.
When I'm not sure exactly how I feel.
You're turning into part of my crew,
We're talking all the time during meals.

But still, it's hard to try.
But I won't soon be saying goodbye.
You're my friend, I love you too much.
But failing at this, it's rough.

I thought I could do it, I did.
I thought I was where happiness is.
I knew I'd be happy either way.
And this is hard to say.

But I'm tired of not being good enough.
And I love being just a friend.
Just being around you is a lot of fun.
More than any music I've ever made.

I'm really tired of being called crazy.
Of being strange because you don't like me back.
I'm fine with it, but they make it seem hazy.
And it feels like a hazardous attack.

I'm happy, just being near you,
But I can't deny it's weird.
You don't hate me and I like you.
I thought you would sneer.

This isn't what I'm used to,
But in hindsight, I like this more.
They say I should be more rude,
But I don't know what for.

You grasp
For the clutch
Of a wisp
Of a secret... but she knows.

Hands clasped.
Just a touch
Just a kiss
You can keep it... but she knows.

This time
You find a gem and you swallow
Make it like your heart, or your stomach
Swimming inside is the essence of a moment

You peer out at the world
From inside your sparkling skull
And you think yet another sacred thought--
"...but she knows."

but she knows, she knows.

When I was young
I used to think
Love was as simple
As that instant "click"

When I was older I met someone
We'd talk for hours
We'd talk about everything
It felt comfortable

But soon enough
Paradise began to slip away
We had plenty of love, but we lacked time
With a heavy heart we parted

And then I met an old man
He told me this, too late
"Regarding love, two things matter:
the man, and the time you both invest"