I Talk Out Loud Like Youre Still Around
It’s a god awful feeling to know you have to get used to not seeing someone again.
"And I miss you
I’m goin’ back home to the West Coast
I wish you would’ve put yourself in my suitcase
I love you
Standin’ all alone in a black coat
I miss you
I’m goin’ back home to the West Coast”
These Soles Are Useless Without You
You know that moment when you are laying with someone and you start to look at them for a little bit. Noticing their breath. The little sounds they make when they sleep. The way their body breathes life into itself. Then they wake up and look at you. And they move in closer. They wrap themselves in you. And you both drift together..
I want that moment but all the time. Not specifically laying in bed or anything like that. No, I want the moment when your eyes meet and they realize that at this very second there’s nothing more important to being here and closer to you.
I want to live in that little moment for as long as I can.
I want to revel in the notion that anyone would want to feel closer to me.
But you can’t live in moments. Time moves. But you should spend your entire life trying to find and feel that moment over and over and over and over and that’s when you know. When you find someone that you can’t imagine that tiny little moment without. That’s when you’ve found where you’re supposed to be.
" Now, I’ve walked through hell for you,
What’s an adventurer to do
But rest these feet at home with you”
You’re bred to fold and tear apart like paper tigers
The internet is a great way to make yourself feel lonely.
Its terribly isolating. It’s too quiet despite there being millions of things happening every second that gets recorded to all these different social outlets. You’re not living any of it. You’re watching someone else do it.
I should get off it some time.
Maybe ride a bike or something.
With no irony, I’ll exclaim, “You Are My Shelter”
"As I wrestle with my broken breath
I’ve got these scratches and sores
I watch you lit up by a machine
This is more than I can afford
It’s got me tangled and tongue-tied
Heaving blackened lungs
I pay penance for the things I think
I’ve lost, and all I’ve done
So can you guide me, Sandman, with our bodies warm?
The only way I’ll lapse into this coma
Is the spark of your sweet storm
The sound of rain in a graveyard
The sound of us escalates
So tell me that you want me, need me
And that it’s not too late.”