Type

The only verse I decided to keep from lyrics I was working on-something to leave on a page and return to later. Writers block for now at least has this verse placed alone amongst chord patterns left longing for a chorus, and another thought. 

I’ve been selling all my memories

just to try a pay the bills

but it seems

sentiment an’t worth much

and I haven’t really got

anything

‘round here of value…

so I’m praying

to the plaster

‘cuz god

he grants me no relief

and least til’ the bank calls

this roof offers some shelter from the rain.

waking up

another cigarette sunrise

sending smoke signals

in exhaled breaths

on the wind

so they might travel to your window

whisper in your ear

catch your attention

and … 

go to sleep

try to win favor with the sandman

so he might grant me permanent residence

in a world built

beneath the sky

of a dreamscape

where i won’t

be forced to face

the day.

press pen to paper

fill pages

and books

halfway up with 

half -truths

I always wind up

pretending 

what i meant to put down

was not quiet real

and even then

i say

these words are not mine

or these words were just meant

to let something out

so i’ll feel better

but I don’t 

really.

now I just have a page marked with ink

so I can see my own sadness

like tears in the mirror.

and display my cliche melancholy

with the pride of a teardrop junky.

I found an old letter I’d written you, trying to thwart my need for immediate gratification, something you so despised that I thus felt compelled to dispel from my desires. Another letter unsent, another note that is now meaningless.

It was between the pages of a journal entry, noting how I wished I were over you after sleeping beside him, when he told me that you and I would never work. I told him that I already knew it was doomed. I told you that too. He said it was because I wanted to be loved and you were in love with you guitar, perhaps he was right, but I always just figured I was unlovable, be it by you or anyone else. I mean, after all,  I wouldn’t keep me.  

I realized I haven’t been seeing the figures at night that usual keep me up when my over-active imagination runs away with the shadows. I’ve actually been sleeping with the lights off. Maybe I’ve discovered sanity? 

I’ve been living in circles on paths,

 that don’t curve or fork, 

but spiderweb…

*I’ve decided to just go ahead and post the unfinished bits I write when I sit down, that lay  incomplete on journal pages and napkins. Maybe this way I’ll be more prone to revist them. 

The North was cold

so I drove South’

the South grew old

and I went West

the West is dull

and now all I want

is to go back East

and drive North 

again.