Ballad Of Big Nothing

hear/listen

Thu, 23 May 2013 15:16:00 -0400

100 steps per sentence
walking backwards and you don’t make sense

you talk a big game about exhaustion
but if you were tired
you would be asleep

your scars seem worse when you’re baring more skin
and you’re always too busy undressing

I dare you to ask
to notice

I’m fully clothed

I’ll tell you the what but not the when
the how but not the why

take my coat off and put it back on
when you muffle my words with your silence

so leave me exposed only in darkness
while you choke on the light that you steal

Unbelievable. The most toxic friendship I’ve ever had.

Mon, 20 May 2013 22:52:16 -0400

Unbelievable. The most toxic friendship I’ve ever had.

like the liquor on the counterI feel cheapused quicklyour strength dilutedshe’s wine drunk and...

Tue, 07 May 2013 01:16:00 -0400

like the liquor on the counter
I feel cheap

used quickly
our strength diluted

she’s wine drunk and slurring her words
somethingabouthim
sadlonelysadlonely
sadsadsad

my glass can reach higher than a half-hearted smile
so I raise a toast instead

thought I would find you in boxesa life trapped by cardboard andthe paperwork that keeps you herebut...

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 17:01:00 -0400

thought I would find you in boxes
a life trapped by cardboard and
the paperwork that keeps you here

but instead you are scattered
through phone lines and state lines
and in the hearts of other people

wood lives longer than flesh
so when your fingers leave the guitar
the music will still play

that much I know

I will one day trap your laugh
in the boxes of my memory
but it could never be contained

it will always be scattered
in the hearts of other people
music we will always hear

I wonder why progress looks so much like destruction.

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 01:52:39 -0400

I wonder why progress looks so much like destruction.

4:52am

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 04:51:32 -0400

Nothing has ever hurt like this.

wipe away the film settling on your wordsundress your crooked parts I never asked for anything but...

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 02:52:00 -0400

wipe away the film settling on your words
undress your crooked parts

I never asked for anything but something raw

tell me about the colour of your mother’s eyes
the last time you saw her cry
were they grey like springtime
or blue like her heart?

journal excerpts, 1.

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 01:24:36 -0400

- You can’t live in another person’s happiness forever.

- If it has had the power to affect me this much, I owe it to myself to take meaning from that. Even if it means letting go of a preferred explanation.

- I should let my guard down more often. It’s important to let people in sometimes, even at the risk of getting hurt. Why do I insist on making the simple things complicated? The most contradicting thing about my personality is my ability to willingly articulate everything but the way I feel.

March: courage.

Sun, 24 Mar 2013 11:34:42 -0400

March: courage.

how to run away

Thu, 21 Feb 2013 18:56:14 -0500

1. the cabinet in my kitchen will be empty
void of that familiar line of pill bottles
(open, swallow, close, repeat)

how I wish they knew your hand
just a little less

how I wish I knew your mind
just a little less

(open, swallow, close)

A pen and some paper feels like a much needed transition for at least a little while. Clouded,...

Fri, 15 Feb 2013 01:52:12 -0500

A pen and some paper feels like a much needed transition for at least a little while. Clouded, chaotic.

“Thank you for reminding me that there are still good people left in the world.”

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 23:25:05 -0500

“Thank you for reminding me that there are still good people left in the world.”

I lost the idea of home a long time ago and I’ve been searching for its counterpart ever since...

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 17:17:00 -0500

I lost the idea of home a long time ago and I’ve been searching for its counterpart ever since - in the written word, a window seat on that plane, and maybe, just maybe, in someone else’s name. These cracks in the foundation follow me around like a ghost and I’m left with nothing but the echo of your mistakes - a fragile frame without a blueprint. It’s time to build something new.

2013: take my own advice.

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 01:19:57 -0500

2013: take my own advice.

I’m one step behind the clock, rushing to cross things off a continuing list, and I...

Mon, 31 Dec 2012 03:17:00 -0500

I’m one step behind the clock, rushing to cross things off a continuing list, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to write all my words down before midnight. So maybe I’ll just leave it at this: the realization that the past twelve months have been monumental, the most important yet.

I’ve tasted bitterness and I’ve traded it in for something sweeter.

You told me you were entwined with foreign limbs and I felt your heaviness clutched to my own...

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 23:39:00 -0500

You told me you were entwined with foreign limbs and I felt your heaviness clutched to my own ribcage, a tide that refuses to stop kissing both our shores. Thought about the last time I saw you and how I couldn’t recognize your face anymore. Burned out in that same parking lot, the tires always scarring our pavement. You were smoking a cigarette, waiting for the lips of another boy to take over its spot between yours. A strange impatience and uncertainty. I never thought you’d be looking for yourself in any other place but his tired heart. This is awkward mornings and the ability to leave. It’s letting go of the hand you held the longest, the passing time between those cigarettes. Finding yourself as someone else and with someone else, quietly hidden under new sheets.

Your silver tongue it masks your hungry hateWhile your haggard heart whispers through its cracking...

Sat, 20 Oct 2012 01:08:56 -0400

Your silver tongue it masks your hungry hate
While your haggard heart whispers through its cracking cage
“You still can change, you have to know you still can change”
I know, I know, for now I want to be this way

This was a choice, this was never a mistake

vrch: this goes out to the secret alcoholics sitting in their bed alone eating breakfast in the...

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 00:46:18 -0400

vrch:

this goes out to the secret alcoholics

sitting in their bed alone

eating breakfast in the afternoon.

to the people who deny plans they should take

to the boy who didn’t kiss me when he should have

for the nights you spend alone

for the projects that will never get finished,

for the mystery in the fog

for the redemption bells ringing inside our cupped and empty hands

for the motivation strike,

stirring up in our bellies

demanding something better

for the answered questions inside melancholy

I don’t have much time for the silence between your words anymore. Instead I’m rushing...

Thu, 04 Oct 2012 00:41:00 -0400

I don’t have much time for the silence between your words anymore. Instead I’m rushing to put things back together, filling every blank space of myself with reusable letters - bleeding ink turned poison. I’ve been waiting in this quiet for too long, deafened by a carelessness carefully masked in good intentions. Purposely so.

You are the second hand of the clock moving backwards, mistaking each passing as progress, and I won’t be around long enough to hear your next quarter-hour chime.

I never thought I’d be here - drinking coffee with him at two thirty in the morning, struck by...

Sun, 16 Sep 2012 20:45:00 -0400

I never thought I’d be here - drinking coffee with him at two thirty in the morning, struck by some sort of tangible comfort in unnatural conversation. I don’t know how to trust him or his words, anyone’s for that matter, but I can feel progress. Vague but promising progress. The way it felt to tell her that I missed her, to hear it back, and to have both of us mean it. Sometimes all it takes is a late night bike ride and an old song on repeat for these things to make sense again. I watched you paint a picture I didn’t understand, but you’ve given me a canvas and now all I need is a brush to make my own mark. This never mattered much anyways, these details, the in-between doubts. It’s time to focus, stay patient, and remember where this progress will bring me - there, where I never thought I’d be.