i'm getting sick, more snot fucking dripping down my nose. less of your nose, more of my reflection. gloomy days spent sulking and summer nights forgotten, we're "best friends". we're "nothing makes sense".
but let's carry on, we'll be safer with our shirts on. i understand the distance, where are you? sun sets set, it's all the same bullshit. i died on friday while you "watched the stars", you hurt me, "blah fucking blah".
he is five more than you, but it's cool, i've got my secrets too.
Then you're driving again. The sun is out and the summer shade from trees tiger-stripes the road. You are together again and you are heading home.
You relate to the world through smells. Oak campfires smell like beach-fires in San Diego. Incense, car carpet, and cigarettes smell like being 18 and in love. Drying dog shit, black on green Kansas lawn, smells like summertime. Water and river brush smells like summertime in Arizona, Colorado River. Hot buds of weed burning smell like being 15 and sober while your friends laugh and grin, slant-eyed and high.
Rosewater on bare skin smells like your woman when you're heading home with her from weeks away, apologies made and nothing resolved nothing is resolved life is still a big hanging sulk of mystery or futility or repeating patterns or hurt feelings of too much damage done maybe. But together and heading home, you are heading home.
You relate to the world through smells. Oak campfires smell like beach-fires in San Diego. Incense, car carpet, and cigarettes smell like being 18 and in love. Drying dog shit, black on green Kansas lawn, smells like summertime. Water and river brush smells like summertime in Arizona, Colorado River. Hot buds of weed burning smell like being 15 and sober while your friends laugh and grin, slant-eyed and high.
Rosewater on bare skin smells like your woman when you're heading home with her from weeks away, apologies made and nothing resolved nothing is resolved life is still a big hanging sulk of mystery or futility or repeating patterns or hurt feelings of too much damage done maybe. But together and heading home, you are heading home.
Too Scared To Move
Calla Lily, can you hear me
in all my drunkenness,
cursing the wealthy
& all the things they have
that we don't?
I'll shut up and let you rest...
But if I were raised to fight,
that would be me
standing up against the right on the TV
that I die in front of each night,
my tail between my knees...
Well I know that you want more from me,
but I'm too scared to move...
Calla Lily, would you make room for me
in this bed
so I can kick my feet and
bang my head
silently?
I swear I won't ask again...
Well I know how you need your sleep,
but my skin's crawlin'...
Put that book down
about the end of the world,
& let your hair down
like it's the end of the world,
& we'll make love...
Calla Lily, will you still love me
come tomorrow
knowing I've done nothing
but put sorrow
to a soft melody?
in all my drunkenness,
cursing the wealthy
& all the things they have
that we don't?
I'll shut up and let you rest...
But if I were raised to fight,
that would be me
standing up against the right on the TV
that I die in front of each night,
my tail between my knees...
Well I know that you want more from me,
but I'm too scared to move...
Calla Lily, would you make room for me
in this bed
so I can kick my feet and
bang my head
silently?
I swear I won't ask again...
Well I know how you need your sleep,
but my skin's crawlin'...
Put that book down
about the end of the world,
& let your hair down
like it's the end of the world,
& we'll make love...
Calla Lily, will you still love me
come tomorrow
knowing I've done nothing
but put sorrow
to a soft melody?
Sleep Rad
play vera lynn at my funeral, though I don't think we will meet again. I'm not morbid. I'm just forgetful and I think it'd be a funny way to end. But I can wait to get there. I know that light is somewhere so I'll fucking find it I swear. Tie it down and drag it back home. sunburnt like every summer. sleepless like every new year. if I die, I'm dying right here. all my friends I'm begging you stay close. real life: it will get you every time. oh my god. now let me contradict the last few things I wrote, like, "I'm not morbid. I'm just forgetful". because I am morbid. the dam is fucking breaking.
Get Rad
i haven't seen you in awhile. How has it been? it's been awhile. I’m not okay, not that you care, I’m just passing the time. Hey, I don't think this is too bad, maybe we can start again? wait, never-fucking-mind, you're still the same and so am I. But let's pretend that we're okay, is that okay? Just right now. I miss your hand inside of mine, I miss the times we'd use to cry when mom was drunk and yours just sucked and everything was so sixteen. And although I still see you around, it’s just not the same.
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