karaoke kid

your wilting smile fell
on the floor next to all this laundry
signs of disuse (abandon portraits
and all)
it wasn't a lie when i said
i wanted you
but it wasn't the truth
i just wanted my ship to come back to
shore

and i put you on because
well, you matched
and the rest of it was dirty and
old, and sadder
and you wore me out
because
i wasn't who i am.

the truth is that
i wanted you to need me
(to lean on me, even when you
were strong)
and i wanted your smile to be
just for me

i guess that's twisted.

i'd always dreamed of picket fence
lining lives we've led
hero dreams or whatever
strewn about like these clothes,
cast off because
this life is good enough

but i guess i was wrong.
(i fall short
and your smile's too long).

the price

the sky was what i got
for saying
yes

ten steps out and
i meet the apocalypse,
steadily marching army
and beneath it
the moon, silken sky
darker than anywhere i could
possibly run.
(you know, i'd die for fun).

so i'll retreat (or run)
from cycles
and wisdom
and world war two.
but one day i'll fight it
and that one's just for you.

tall grass

a hero dream would be nice,
craggy cliffs and
that moment about the hair
and resolution and
the sparkle on your cornea
that too
while rambling freaks
soliloquize about how much
they loved us
(i mean, me. you never let
anyone love you. you don't exist)
circus redemption and hey
you could run away, if you wanted
but i don't think you do.

thanks, blake

that time i awakened me
you stared ahead so vacantly
i had to scream
but nothing would come out
so i picked up my cliche
and stuffed it in a suitcase,
vowed that i would leave this stupid town.
but i'm back, i guess
and you, you know the rest
it's history like
coal burnt in my lungs.

wait outside my window

i saw you staring
twelve days ago
five days in a row and i couldn't
help but wonder, am i
the messenger or the evidence

blood-red snow like twelve
days ago, come on
looking for a good time?
the piecemeal moments of our lives
just don't fit
snow on the ground
i'd only let lincoln suspend the writ
(not this strange, violent
punctuation)

i don't want to be the one
they see at eight
five days into the week
too stupid to care -
but hey,
that's paranoia for you.

pauli

dear life,
there's nothing wrong
just an empty hand
and ten dollars lost.
i'm addicted to cash,
to doing well.
got a light? go to hell.

and inside your soft remains,
a sister too i saw in you
and we walked for miles wide.

please write me back.
i'm tired of hating,
of jealousy
addiction.
i'm tired

in the winter's when you really know

i am loyal
on the barren wastes we call
big surprise, the world
waits for you.
baited breath for
logic we can only pretend to
see;
the snowflakes fall
around me, one by one they prove me wrong.

christmas one month late,
but now you're here.
therapy
for our bleeding lips
drying hands,
i wish i had more answers.

down the road,
i hope i see you every day.
in the winter,
you really know
a partner's all you ever want to know.