Time's Up, Pencils Down

Lately I've been trying to resuscitate my own murder. I feel for you, but mostly just for them. The names I'm scratching out are only more failed attempts to change the heart I'm buried in. Eventually they'll all want to ask me how I did it.

Let's face it. I have been painted on waves that were born to crash. Shorelines act as positive signs and changes. All the right words are trapped inside a shy throat. Nobody wants me clean. "He was so much more fun hungover."

So for now let us dance alongside the lights until the sun forgets it's job. Lets connect each star in the sky with footsteps. Tonight we will wear the title of the 'it' kids. Rooftops match reputations. Let's make the moon our personal disco ball. November nights are too late for fireworks but lets make them anyway. Just to watch them burn across the skyline and swallow up the city. Scarves and gloves. Cold lips against warm necks. Fingertips along waistlines. And this is me trying to add something in between the good nights and good byes.

Fine lines lay between friction and release. And remember that only the safe keep it simple. Gotta keep telling myself to stay out in left field, behind enemy lines, and on the right side of the fence.

Rainy Day Kids

No one else will understand headlights and yellow lines the way I do. Spilling out hearts between steering wheels and empty swing sets. Our cars collided at precisly the right second, crossing out paths where they need it the most. The more that I write the less shows up. I swear, together we could walk away from every train wreck with just a scratch.

AlphaMaleOmegaLove

4amlife. Everyone is heavy breathing in their sleep as the sun comes up. I want to be them. Keep looking for treasures.

Ladies and Gentlemen.... please put your seats in their upright position. Meet me at baggage claim. Pack light.

Please Send A Torch And Some Faith

Central Park collisions. 8 million people and it had to be the 2 of us. You had me laughing at the way you grovel when there are no microphones or camera flashes in sight. Take a stand. Dot coms refresh for the drama.

And my nosebleeds are oh so appropriate, given the fact that she is always on center stage and I find myself so far away. My best friend has given his approval. She won over left eye and tear drop stripes.

Until she showed up on my canvas I was just a painter without a vision. That's really all that I can admit to. I could learn to read her mind, but all of this reading in the dark has pretty much wrecked my sight. I'm guessing that she is regretting this monster she has created.

He gave me a prescription and said "these will take take care of your shyness." No one really gets that part though. And who ever wanted you to come out of your shell anyhow. Maybe I'm just pretty sure that I am a total bore. And there's nothing tragic at all, this is (I'm) completely ordinary.

Send Me Your Sunsets

Allow a lamb with wings to represent me, because I have become sleeplessness. It's as if I'm currently writing the gospel on staying up. And don't think for a second that just because I am the carrier that you will always be the rescuer. I know some of whats going on is out of reach but come with - because this is going to be the greatest story ever told. Love Hostage.

Right turn breakups and street corner makeups. I'll be the salt in every wound that you have ever had. But lose the fear... I'm just a perfectionist with nothing to back myself up.

Save your sorry's, I'm what you get for building homes inside empty words. That's why I drink liquor straight... so at the next spark I can just spit at their expectations and watch this all burst into flames. Or maybe I'll inhale the flare of fixations and failures just to burn me from the inside out.

Ace of shades. Criminal of hearts. Crasher of clubs. King of diamonds. I'm the full deck. Shuffle me and deal.

Fingers To The Keyboard, Bullet To The Heart

I woke up far away and didn't know which to reach for first... the light or my head. I walked into a city of bright lights and fairy-tale promises. My reflection in passing windows wasn't me at all. It was you. I kept my hands in my pockets. Rain drops floated down and into my eyes to hide my feelings for this place.

In my pocket I found a pen. I wrote '"where are you?'s" along every street light so maybe you could catch shadows. There's something wrong here. I found pieces of the sun along the sidewalk. The moon hasn't moved all night. Every poster and billboard is pictures of us.

Last night I had a dream that I found a string around my wrist that led deep into the sky. I pulled it down and every star crashed into the pavement. Walk away from this disaster already. I decided to skip stones and knocked the city over. I ran as far as I could only to find derailed trains and crashed airliners.

Right now I see you and I dilate.

Since November 14, 2003

Three year love affair and it's our anniversary. Traffic, tension, and the Holland Tunnel. Welcome Home.

Currently scouting locations to melt your heart. And once it's in liquid form we'll toast to the years we've wasted. Before I solidify your heart I want to swim in its imperfections. High Definition Lover. It's all so clear.

When it comes to ways that someone can miss you, I'm Christopher Columbus. I believed in you before we even met. When this is all said and done they'll celebrate a holiday in our name. I only hope that the bars will stay open.

Shutter..Shutter..Click..Click Late night chats into the early morning. She's making mistakes and tabloid headlines with his heart. Time to puncture swelling heads.

I want to be your latest catch phrase. The kind that you repeat unknowingly. The next "uh" or "umm" that comes out of your mouth. Stutter my name.

I heart the way that 7th Ave and Broadway clash at Times Square to form a bow-tie. Symmetrical mistress. Let's watch the ball drop one last time. Let my tombstone read "Drunken Socialite, Sober Recluse, Constant Smile!"

You Can Only Imagine How Jealous My Mouth Is

I've been stashed away for awhile. Like winter clothing. Here's to a new internal season. It has been ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche since the pearls in our shells came out to play. Take out your pencils and place your books beneath your desk. It's time to be tested.

They aren't my secrets to tell. They are my promises to keep. That is how we should always be.

I wish I could get a notary to sign off your attention six months from now. Crush it up, drink it down. You're the only addiction that's ever stuck.

Everyone wants to stand so tall and at the same time question why I'm so willing to throw posture to the wind. Here is the answer. I'm more than aware that hearts without a backbone can not be broken. I'll forever be in a curled up position.

You have me wanting to be rebuilt like a structure from Frank Lloyd Wright's mind.... only without all of the water damage. Or maybe I'll settle for being painted over like a Monet.. only less blurry. Either way I have my own adjustments.

I want to be a constant collage. Lets grab a masterpiece and paste our favorite visions along side. Art as/is progress.... a constant motion... never finished. Galleries are places in which we hang quitters. I say keep them alive. Let us all add to them. Allow me to become your masterpiece. Develop me. Don't ever leave me hanging.

I want to give them all the rush of warm blood like you see in cartoon dogs right before their eyes pop out and all of the bells go off. Thinking of being apart has my head spinning like a car off of an icy guardrail. Show me what you are made of.

Snakes Snails And Puppy Dog Tails

When I dream I find myself placing you in bones of middle fingers and unopened letters. It is my hope that you will use one to open the other. String together sentences that only golden ears will hear... let me know I'm not passing love notes to empty desks.

You are my makeshift metronome. TickTickTickTick....

Laughter has saved me. Laughter and large crowds and eyes running with tears and giggles and hiding under sheets and shooting rockets with cameras attached and fake fights. It is the run on sentences in here that allow me to break free of the rules out there. Make me feel alive, make me get my point across. This is all for when my child struggles to find its way in the world. This is my "I was once there."

Living down to their expectations. That's what I'm best at. Hum a few bars and I'll fake it. If I put my hand up, I can blot out the sun, but not the light. This is a common side effect of delusions of grandeur. Third(wheel) degree burns and retinal damage.

I am the chair to your standing promise. Take it and break it. It's a two-for-one discount. Another mis-step in a series.

Sometimes cheek kiss goodbyes catch the corners of lips and its just the secret of those two forever. Pulled the sign off of my back that read: Save Me. Why am I so in love with the rescuers?

TheseWordsAreLoaded

Cue The Dream Sequence

The tires beating on the highway remind me of everything. Like the way that the evening lights on Fripp let me know where I should always be.

My lately's consist of road trips, good friends and the The Gilmore Girls 1st Season DVD's. The beach, board games, and regrets about an admission in the previous sentence. Flashlight dances and bottle rocket photographs from 500 feet. 11 crabs, feeding deer potato chips, and upset stomachs... which only feel better when laying in laps across the backseat.

My thinking is set in a pattern that only I wear. I can't make you like it because it doesn't suit the way your hips curve, and it certainly doesn't bring out your eyes.

I am just a guy caught up in the scene with a knack for putting words together and a habit of never thinking before I speak.

The best truths come from the best liars, even though it's not from their mouths.

The thinner the blood the further away I am... at least when my head is concerned. And you know how much I love departures.

BetweenArms. The way that she has these words dancing through my head is only proof that she is every great instrumental.

I Have Winter In My Pocket And Great Adventure In My Genes

Call me old fashioned, cliche, or repetitive.... but never careless. I've become used to counting the steps from the door to her room, just for those mornings when my vision is too blurred to see through the living room to the front door.

Loyal eyes spotted you and contacted my ears. I've caught you in the act. Covering up doesn't mean closing your eyes and counting to three. It's cute that you still believe in such things. But I have a feeling that when you open up, nothing will be as you wished.

Tonight will be all about yellow rain boots, and slow dancing.

Come clean or I'll confront you among the masses. Sticks and stones are way to obvious. Pick up the truth and hurl it in my direction. I'm a vampire baby, and your stake is coming clean. Crawl on top, count to three, and thrust your confessions into my chest. The nosebleeds are only me feeding upon myself.

We are supposed to allow our sparks to fly and set this world on fire. We could be this amazing disaster. We've got forever written all over us. Until then I'll be standing on your doorstep, trying to feel the earth shake.

Counting Down To Fripp

I am blue waves across the red root-like veins in the bodies drawn flat in medical books. I wonder at the way that someone can write thousands and thousands of pages about my insides. I only love how the words feel in my head when I write them.

When I met you I gave you a name. Not your own... but in my head so I wouldn't ever mix you up with anyone so ordinary.

I had been watching you from afar. Love through a telescopic lens. Until late one night while the rest of the ship was sleeping, you cast your spell on me.

Now you're like a light switch. I just want to turn you on and watch all of the rest of them shrink away. I feel safe when you're around. Not safe like a bet.... more like the way mothers feel when they lock the car doors in bad neighborhoods. Smiles grace my face when you cross my mind. Your happiness is the orchestra and I am the conductor.

Everything behind my eyelids is a machine that only moves for her.