le depart.

i've lost you.
and i don't know if you're hiding in castles or caves,
or watching shooting stars from mountain tops,
whether your hands are soothing fields of wheat
or keep busy covering your mouth,
stopping the vernacular from spilling out.
it is either this lake or that ocean
that is holding you hostage,
and i wish with all of my soul that I could somehow
find a way to build you a sailboat.
you will float on.
you will float ahead.
when you finally reach where you want to be,
send me smoke signals so that I know you are finally free.

it's the old brand new.

come on,

think about it.

this could have been the life you always dreamed of,
with cobalt pitchers filled with ice cold lemonade
and the heart of the world displayed on your living room wall!
this could have been it.
but something stopped you, something.
i find myself eight heartbreaks later,
back at the beginning.
only the righteous float above so quickly.
it is this cyclic love that is making me sick at sea.
no patches to cover it up this time,
i realize what is right from wrong,
but i fear i will drown again, and all over,
for i am just not that strong.

the run-around.

such dreary days do not count as a way
to pass these dragging days of a time to wait.
waiting in vain and waiting for a brand new kind of pain
seems strange when we talk about it being a sort of happiness.
maybe it's more contentedness,
maybe it's your floozy mistress that is making you the least bit prepared.
off with your head! and i will bite my tongue.
this charade has gone on for too long because
we all thought you would have learned by now.
such a beautiful counterfeit seems such a despicable waste.
give it time and give it space,
but there is no time, you see!
wake up from your dreaming!
time doesn't exist, for there was no beginning
and there is no end.
we are all waiting for something that never comes
and sticking our noses up at the things that did.
if we're all waiting forever, the middle seems insignificant
and this rainy day is no different than tomorrow's.