I'm Not Sure Where I Went, But I Know Where I'll Be

i never once was hurt by you. i never receded, or retreated. i thought i did well in such a backwards position. you said more than i ever could, but still i'm the one credited with the spectacle. now i'm unsure of what direction to take, if any. i was once solid, god it seems like it's been forever, an old memory on the back burner, barely mentionable. and stability is so much more when you're avoiding life daily. sometimes when i close my eyes i see your face, and we go to the marsh with the cloudy rebellious water, where we could never be seen. i contemplate how past too far i let all the feelings linger, and dissolve my chance at any normal days. i continue, would it have been the same had i acted differently? i fell into plans that never panned out, i was naive, and i followed the bait you ambitiously spoke about. but why? you let me in on your little secret several times, but i still couldn't step away from the impending rush of hostile emotion i knew i'd get from you. i took a deep breath, and let it pass. and does anyone else know how fake your friendliness is? i fell for it. i did for everything though. once i thought about getting a sponsor. to call, when you know, i wanted to call you. and i once met a man on the street, was gonna ask him. he noticed i was wandering not being pulled in any direction and he told me "there's no bad influences, just you". and my god i never turned so fast around, i thought you were tapping me on the shoulder. had to have been a sensual hallucination. it then dawned on me that's all you ever were. i was just the fool who took the drug.

One Soul, One Hundred And Two Hearts

i know you must be hurting. except i haven't really seen you so i can't be totally sure. but since we share a soul and mine's hurting for no good reason i can think of, it just must be yours. and since we haven't spoke you don't tell me what's the matter. and i wonder how i could help.
so you know i would tear a hundred hearts out to be sure that your's is safe. and against all odds i'd hire a taxidermist and have them all stuffed and saved, displayed on my mantelpiece.

and then my soul would cease to hurt.
the other one hundred would replace that empty space on my nightstand where at dusk we'd take our hearts out and leave them there 'til morning. at night we would dream and come morning we'd reconvene and carefully place them back in. those heartless nights in which our love didn't matter, it was purely the soul that remembered our actions.

and you left me alone, with my heart on the nightstand, attached to the soul we share in such an uncanny way, but half that soul is mine and maybe i'd want custody again sometime soon. if i remembered what to do. me - here, sharing all the good, and you like hell, and you! all i have from you is a bit of misery that i can't undo, can't return without hurting myself and i don't even know what makes it grow, or puts it to rest. these lingering pains that put me to the test.

how i have a vested interest in your swollen from too much hurt heart, i haven't a clue, but someone up there is enjoying this show.

Oh December You're Feverish

when smoke is sprawling through a dark sky

and you can't see through it with the naked eye,

love fumbles over it's own two feet

as white lies keep it trekking on

and the sky looks like the ocean

and the moon's a jellyfish that's glowing

love surrenders, but why won't we let it?

the deepest rivers, while against the current

lasso all the tiny moments, put them in a row

shoot them one by one, then

bask in the afterglow