A picture frame

You'll miss my hands
After I'm gone
You'll miss my lips
In the morning
When the sun shines down
Yellow on your bonzai tree
You
Will think on me

I will never
Forget your name
No I will never
I will never be the same

You'll miss my hands
After I'm gone
You'll miss my eyes
You'll miss my songs
But I
Will never be home again

And we
Who loved so beautifully
Will be nothing nothing
But a memory

Hold my hand tonight

Asleep at the wheel

It's an 18 hour drive for me to get home
Give me 18:05, I'll be at your door
I've been waiting so long to see your face
I've been waiting so long to put my hands around your waist

It's an 18 hour drive back to Omaha
And the whole way in my mind, I'll be singing our song
I've been waiting so long
I want to see you again.


I'm homesick for lovers that never love back.
I'll keep holding my breath until my lungs turn black.

I am Don Juan.
I am Don Quixote.
Leave me alone.

It's an 18 hour drive to get to your front porch
That's 18 full hours to plot my approach
I've got something to do, something to try
I'm so desperate I could cry

It's an 18 hour drive home from Michigan sleet
Maybe 17 if I don't stop to eat
You can go 3 days without water, 40 without food
But I just don't know how long I can go... without you.

I'm homesick for lovers that never love back.
I'll keep holding my breath until my lungs turn black.

I am Don Juan.
I am Don Quixote.
Leave me alone.

untitled song a

I hear about your dates with other men
I hear you whispering to them
I hear your moans inside my head
And somehow that don't change the way
I look at you when we're alone
Like somehow I'm gon' make you all my own

Little woman I adore
Will you hurt my heart some more?
I'd better get myself out that front door
I'd better leave this town and never look back

But I
Wanna be your man

Now I've got nothing left to lose
But I've got a lot to say to you
I had a dream
In black and blue
And every scene
Was you.

Now on this earth, under the sun
I am a man on the run
But my heart is left
On your sleave
But if you want me to
I will leave

But I
Wanna be your man

And I can't forget your smell with your scarf around my neck

I'm drowning my sorrows in Amber Bock and coffee
Apple Pie blisses that grandma made just for me
And snowy white joy rides through Minnesota streets.
White scarf that smells like you did when I left
And warm like that hug that we shared for a bit
That bit that could last all night in my head
All night regretting that we never kissed.
Maybe it's a bad idea, but my heart doesn't care
And I can't persuade it to alter one prayer.
They echo like blue moans in my ears
And I'll spend til morning wishing you were here.

the death of light

Is it cloudy or has the sun died?
Either way the darkness fills my wretched eyes.
So what if the sun had died? Big surprise.
It's just like everything else in life
It had its time
Now... decline

Until it's gone

Is there a constant?
I grab the railing, but it's not screwed in.
It just falls off the wall and comes with
And I'm falling.

It's like a drunken stumble
You're never balanced, never comfortable
Always trying to remain somewhere stable
And you always fail

Perception

When the sun's behind the cloud, does that make the sun dark?
"Perception is reality" is a half truth, just a start
For when my sky is clouded over, the black is what I see
But despite the blackness on the earth, the sun shines merriliy.

I haven't written prose in awhile...

He rocked back and forth on his bed, knees to his head.

"I didn't want it to end like this."

"No one ever does."

He looked up for a second, and through the deep shadows concealing his eye sockets she could barely sense the glimmer of tears. He sniffed, and wiped his hands over his cheeks roughly. He looked away.

"Yeah, what do you know about anything?"

She looked down at her feet. The soles were black with soot.

"I know a little," she said quietly.

He stopped rocking.

The soot was thick on her shoes. She scraped her feet together, right over left, trying to clear some of it away. To make them clean again. She just found more layers of soot. When she looked up, he was staring at her, eyes barely visable in the deep shadows of his eye sockets, poking out just above his knees which he still clung to, tight against his chest. His face was dark, part from the shadows, and part from the smoke and debris. She tilted her head and looked curiously at him for a moment, and then sighed and looked back down at her shoes.

"I didn't want to die alone," he whispered.

"Don't ever say anything like that again!" she snapped at him, eyes suddenly full of fire. "Don't ever say anything so horrible. You're not alone. You've never been alone."

I feel alone, his eyes said to her.

"I feel alone."

She was quiet for a minute, looking back at her shoes.

"I know," she said, finally.

He buried his face in his knees again, gripping his legs hard against his small wiry chest as he gasped breath in through clenched teeth.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?" he asked finally, forcing the words out through aching lungs.

She sighed and put a hand up to her forehead, as if the slight pressure could help her think.

"It's the bittersweet. No one really wants a perfect life. It's too boring. If there's no risk, there's no adventure. If there's nothing to lose, there's nothing to gain."

"That's bullshit."

"Maybe..." and she was still for a moment. Then finally, "but it's the only way you can be free. Freedom and fairness don't seem to coexist very well in this world."

But he wasn't listening. His eyes were closed now.