Climb inside (lost in drafts from a few years back)

Your toes try to find their footing
As they flex and bend, nails scraping
And tearing to get a hold
On the slippery outer surface
Of my mind

You try to peer deep inside
To the depths of my thoughts
Find out all the reasons
For all the words I spill
Onto our dream-filled conversations
Before they go tumbling
Towards obscurity in the night air

I offer you a ladder
And you climb on in
Telling me you're at home
But all I seem to feel 
Is the loss of you.

Thoughts from the past...

Sometimes things get too difficult. There were moments when I was making demands of the same kind... but there's a time when the only way to stop being broken is to leave it all behind.

When a night has so many parts...

... why do we always think about the things that boil our blood, rather than the events that make us smile? Why is it so easy to dwell on the clouds when there's still some light to indulge in? Maybe it's just me, but I'm suspicious I'm not alone.

A night full of Halloween foolishness turned out fine in the end, and it would be considered a raging success (other than being peppered by moments of inappropriate behaviour) if photographic evidence was the only thing to consider. Regardless, breaking up fights and dealing with people who seem to have a sandbox bully complex leaves a bit of a sour taste. 

In an attempt to indulge the better side of things, my costume was an amazing DIY robot. Awesome. I'll never do it again (Robots are the most impractical costumes in history), but it was fun all the same.

T

The words slip

Fingers drag slowly over palms, the sound they make
Is deafening in its silence
Looks linger, and we're wrapped in the gaze of the other
"Peter Pan said that a kiss is a powerful thing
But these words are similarly powerful things" she said
Filling the uncertain air with the right words
The only true words to be found in the universe at this very moment
Pianos and saxophones and muffled breath would be the only substitutes
For what could be considered real
In the universe.

T

Victim

The fog sits on the shadowy, high-rise rooftops
Wet and weighty, ominous,
As if wiping a damp brush over everything exposed to the night.
The sun escaped the eve's oppression hours prior.
Every time I inhale, it leaves a saccharine, dank film on my tongue.

As I reach the building, I can feel the night's weight on me.
I light up the button for the tenth floor
I enter the steel capsule to head skyward.
As the door closes, the only thing in the air is the smell of you.
The scent is sweet and onerous.
I know you're waiting.
But not for me.

The scent torments me
As if it knew to be patient
And linger
Like the fog out the window,
Lying in wait because a victim, a sacrifice has been selected.

The metal cage bellows it's arrival. Tenth floor.
As I exit, I indulge in the stank of hallway cigarettes
For a silent moment before plunging through the door,
Taking in the grey blanket that hangs beyond the glass.
I'm full of the knowing that you're there
And that you're waiting,
But not for me.

T

Take your words

I'm the first to admit
And the first to be taken aback
When you make beautiful music
Whether it be filling a stairway when you think you're all alone
Or when you're joined in unison
By countless other soaring voices to fill a concert hall.
It cannot and does not
Change the fact that when I listen to your songs
My heart breaks
And it's impossible to place my hands upon
Anything but the sadness
Concealed inside all the interstitial space
In my soul.
Your voice, when it carries on the wind to my ears,
Brings rain and cloud
And an inability to escape the tapping on my tin roof
Of course it's possible that such sound can be soothing
But those constant raindrops hold the power
To break the stone sculpture in the garden
If given enough time.

So take your songs
And take your words
And keep them to yourself
Before they shipwreck me on some unseen rock
Or maroon me upon some unknown isle.
Take them so I don't have to drown.

T

Arbitrary titles

I'm all alone in the crowd around me
And I'm lost in the haze of all this sunshine
The wake you left when sailin' away
Has left me wonderin' will anyone ever be mine.

If you can ever find the time
Send me a postcard, but don't spend more than a dime
Take it as a simple sign
That there's no reason in my rhyme.

T