A Lot Like Love

Our existing is ethereal,
I devour the moments with my soul,
the good, and even the insanely awful,
everything I have of you is beautiful.
Your knowledge moves me,
you open my eyes every day,
sometimes prying the lids
as I fight you away,
but even still
I am greatful.
I know you, but I still have so much to learn.
I don't mean to interigate or defile,
I just wish to experience all that is you.
I touch the surface of your skin,
and I try my best to go deeper,
digging through the words you say
hoping to find the bones that you're hiding.
I want all of you,
but I'll take any little bit you can offer.
As long as you're by my side,
I know I'm whole.

Emergency

After being in darkness for so long,
light is blinding, painful, shocking,
it takes time to adjust to the change,
at first you recoil and try to block it out,
then gradually you open up to it,
seeing things that had always been there,
but seeing them for the first time,
a warm, exciting notion,
until the light goes out again.
What you do in that moment makes all the difference,
do you mourn in bitter contempt
for that which you've lost,
or wait, patiently, anticipating the moment
when you will find it all over again.

Drive

Windows down
fingers breeze through my hair
alone on the open road
the dashes and lines
and the trees pass me by
held in mid-air
the momentum carries me forward
my hands on the wheel
my foot on the pedal
the hum and the buzz in my ears
the sun on my face
the radio off
singing the thoughts of the day gone by
my secret escape
from the world around me
Where am I going?
And where have I been?

Smoked Out

The neighbor's mowing his lawn,
and your roomates are downstairs
watching television, while we're here
making love, there are no candles
only cigarettes, the smell of roses and ash,
clouding my mind
while the august heat burns my face,
I give myself to you as a sacrifice,
a peace offering that I know you don't deserve,
I just want things fixed,
but nothing is permanent with you,
you're gone faster than the smoke I'm inhaling,
but leaving behind as much damage.

Trailer Trash

Cartoon characters on my steering wheel,
dice on my rearview mirror,
I singe the end of a menthol light,
sucking in and breathing out on the same puff,
it balances loosely between my index and middle fingers,
aside a plastic butterfly ring from a vendor,
it must look silly hanging out the window of my '97 Cutlass,
with "Knockin On Heaven's Door" blaring from the radio,
I'm everything I never wanted but always would be,
driving down a road I've taken many times before,
ending up in the arms of a love that died some time ago,
I am fighting classification even from myself,
not wanting to be defined by a line, a look, or any moment.

Living for the Moment

We want easy answers,
easy love, an easy life,
and an easy out.
We are a generation
of lazy desperation,
impatiently anticipating
a future that will never exist
because we're too busy living
for the present, day by day,
thrill by thrill,
nothing is left to the imagination,
we are cursed by what we have
and what we have never gone without,
we are spoiled rotten,
damned and wasted,
and for this I am disheartened.