Hey

Hey it's me again just like always
When the sun has shed his final rays
And I'm left with just myself
And all my doubts rise up without much stealth
I stare into the darkness
I ponder my new loneliness
But am I really alone
Or is this a clever illusion of home

Hey just wanted to tell you I'm still here
In spite of or maybe because of my fears

Dark like a rose in the night
Cold like the light from a street lamp
Where hope takes sudden flight
And the flood becomes only damp

Hey it's me again did you forget
Or am I just another one in debt
To the screen of anonymity
And you come to me through serendipity
So you wouldn't know why
Or you wouldn't even try
To make any sense of me
Or had the thought not even tried to be

Hey just wanted to tell you I'm still here
In spite of or maybe because of my fears

Dark like a rose in the night
Cold like the street lamp light
Rain falls like shards of glass
Every song just like the last

Hey I'm still here
Hey did you forget
Hey

Reflections on the street
I stop to stare back at myself at my feet
Breeze like a dagger cutting
Hear the gates of heaven shutting
Flicker there now slowly
Chase away my melancholy
Remind me that I am still
More than mist with a troubled will

[Untitled XVII]

Who defines here?
Or is it just a myth?
Or am I just another one
Who's lost inside the labyrinth
Of all that you could fear?
Am I just another catalyst
For all from which you run?
Do you really want to know?

Who defines there?
Or is it just a tale?
Or are you just another man
Whose love for me will pale?
It's nothing but a flare
Nothing but a laggin fail
But love me while you can
'Cause someday I'll be dead

I never meant for this to be
Like walking over broken glass
I've tried to patch me back together
But the sky just keeps on falling down
I'll try to be so you can see
Through the scars and pain at last
I know we're both birds of a feather
But I'm still afraid that someday you will frown

Shadow of Cold Rain

I have nothing left to give
Hollowness like a red abyss
I'll just die the way I live
In the shadow of a cold rain

The curtain of this stage
Is the rain falling like shards of glass
The script is written--just a blank page
I am lost inside this shadow's mass

I am cold

I've been down this road before
You're not the first to want this
Another of a few or more
Here in the shadow of a cold rain

The curtain of this stage
Is the rain falling like shards of glass
The script has been read--just a blank page
I am writhing in this shadow's mass

I am cold

But you can try, I guess
To clean up the mess
Everyone left inside of me
No one else has cared enough
But i wonder if you dare to be
The one to teach me love

The curtain of this stage
Has risen to a new dialogue
A song has filled this empty whit page
I am dancing now out of the fog

I am here

Introspection

So many people trapped in one body
So many faces singing and weeping
Like an awful schizophrenic parody
They're all saying my sanity's not worth keeping

Ten thousand people dancing
In a room too small for me
Ten thousand people laughing
They say this is all there is to be

No longer just me myself and I
Now there's ten thousand people inside of me
All they do is laugh at me
She's such a fool
And in my head without the rules they all run free

Ten thousand people dancing
In a room too small for me
Ten thousand people laughing
They say this is all there is to be
Ten thousand people's eyes
All watching what i do
Ten thousand people's voices
Which one gets through to you?

Is this everything there is?
Of course it is
Can there be any more?
Oh, no! Never!
Was there ever anything for me?
Oh, dear child, you know there never was
Does everyone always laugh at me?
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..............

Ten thousand people dancing
In a room too small for me
Ten thousand people laughing
They know this is all there is to be

muse

i don't really know why i keep writing this same story over and over. i suppose it seems narcissistic, writing the same woman's death over and over from different points of view.

it's not. honestly, it's just an exercise in character creation. each iteration, you see another person, get to know him, understand little bits of his personality and life, until for a moment, you know him.

what i suppose is ironic is that this woman will never know these men. she's just not that kind of girl. sure, she cares about people, suicidal people distance themselves from others. they don't want you to know them or miss them. they just want to disappear and let the world breathe easier without them.

returning to the void.

do you think that would really be so bad?

why is it that every time evil shows up in art, it is represented and foreshadowed and wrapped up in darkness?

who decided that the light was benevolent?

i'm not saying i'm out to change that meme, don't misunderstand. all i am doing is painting realistic pictures in monochrome. shades of gray, representing the universe.

shade.

shade --n. 1. the comparative darkness caused by the interception or screening of rays of light from an object, place, or area. --n. 2. a place or an area of comparative darkness, as one sheltered from the sun. --n. 3. a shadow. shades -- n. 1. a reminder of something: shades of the Inquisition. --n. 2. a secluded or obscure place: He was living in the shades.

kinda funny, i totally screwed up this idea once. i wrote a cycle of poems i called Shade, but each poem was another color, and a commentary on life.

shade, tint, saturation, gamma, f-stop.

ways to represent reality with subtle lies.

isn't that what art is? in all its forms?

"for now we see, but in a crappy, fragmented mirror, obscurely."

Angel II

You know, I never really thought about her until that night. She was just ordinary. Yeah, she was a little dark, maybe a little moody, but nothing really that weird.

I don’t even really remember her walking up the stairs that night. She was always careful to be quiet above my head, I mean, to this day, I don’t even know if she and her boyfriend did it, you know? I guess that’s why the noise caught my attention that night.

I had watched her come home late pretty often, though, so I can guess what it looked like. But I guess it doesn’t matter, you know?

You see, I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’m not gay or anything, but I’m 24 and never had a girlfriend. I just figured I’ll meet her when I meet her.

Now, that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my hopes. She had this quietness around her, just quiet, like she was always listening for something, but she knew somehow she’d never really hear it.

Alright, I admit it, sometimes I would listen to her soft footsteps above me and try to piece together what she was doing.

Even then, she always seemed a little surreal. She seemed untouchable. Maybe that was why she was so attractive. It didn’t even seem like her boyfriend was worthy to look at her. She seemed like she was above everything, looking down, but not proud, just lonely. Like an angel, but neither holy nor fallen, but standing in between, where no one really notices her.

But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.

You know, she did it very elegantly, like she had planned it all along. I don’t know. Maybe she had. I’d rather not think about it now.

That’s the trouble with ADD, it’s just as easy to forget something or someone as it is difficult to get them out of your head.

This is going to sound crazy, but I actually remember the day I realized I loved her. It was about six months after the night I found her laying there in her apartment. A new girl was moving into the apartment above me, a dark haired beauty who wasn’t nearly as quiet, but wasn’t exactly loud either. I just realized when I saw her that the memory I had of the little quiet redhead who had turned that apartment into her grave, that memory was fading rapidly.

At that moment, I cracked open a very large bottle of whiskey and drowned my brain in it. By four in the afternoon, I had finished the bottle and lay there on the couch with the window fan, the radio, the TV, and my own head running ninety miles a second. God, I missed her.

I know that drinking that much that early is terrible, but really, wouldn’t you? I woke up that night horribly sober and vividly remembering the first time I met her. The complex manager had thrown a Christmas party, and she showed up late and apologetic, but with a bottle of wine I had never heard of. I was a little buzzed, and she seemed a little shy, so I gulped a little and tried to make her feel at home. We joked a little, talked a little, mingled a little. I remember watching her drink, very carefully, like she was afraid of something, but no matter how much she had, no matter what she had, she never ever got drunk, didn’t even seem to buzz. Yeah, she loosened up by the end of the night, but that’s really just her getting used to us.

Funny thing is, to this day, I can’t remember actually paying that much attention to her that night. That party was three years ago now, and from then to the day she died, I don’t think we spoke more than fifteen words to each other.

Maybe this is why I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t think there is a woman on this planet patient enough to put up with me.

Well, not anymore.

two nights ago

driving like you're running away
but what did you leave behind?
or could you even say?
is it too much to bear?

streetlights blazing and you don't even see
static from the tires screaming
yes, everything you wanted it to be
but what have you lost?

the flood is over your head now
drowning in your own silence
consuming need pulling you down
now you can't even see the surface


what were you looking for?
did you find it?
would you even know?
do you even care?