My Context

 You were the context to which I made sense.
 Last night I had a dream, and you had called me just to talk, and I was sitting outside of some unfamiliar house that was supposed to be mine. It had been a very, very long time in the dream as well, and I cherished every second like I would. And you were patience, but there was so much noise on my end, and although you were all that I wanted, I heard you fading away, I could not get far enough from my own life to be present for you like I always wished to.
 A couple of nights ago when I was out, I was asked if you were real, I never answered in fear of having to explain seeing your insides. (I must have replied with awkwardly drinking from his beer glass.)
 There were no cords and wires! I touched a beating heart, and believe me there was blood and there were guts. Organs, your wind chest, and your windpipe, and you always played our songs, and sung along in your car, there was never a dull moment, even your silence was breathtakingly beautiful to me.

"I am not something
more like the absence of something"

Straight Forward

I am just so honestly petrified that I won't feel happy again.
Squander away this life, and deconstruct all of my relationships until they absolutely destruct. 
And I was having a hard day, thanks for hitting me up to say I am in a rut.
How do I get out of here?

Awkward Exchange

"Mailman
 To see a mailman in your dream symbolizes your communications with others. You need to get the word out about something. If the mailman does not have any mail for you, then it signifies disappointments in some aspect of your life."

Expected To Believe

"clever words on pages turn to fragments, circles, points and lines, 
and cover them like carpets, with graceful,
meaningless ornamental designs 
come quick, you light that knows no evening
come, alone to the alone
I have a thousand half-loves well worth leaving for to take your madness home,
and you dance inside my chest where no on sees you,
but sometimes I see you
rejoice, the cleansing of my lips
rejoice, salvation of my soul
but I still have a thousand half-loves
(oh my god, I want to shoot myself just thinking about it)
and you think I don't mean what I say?
well I mean every word I say.
I threw a small stone down at the reflection of my image in the water,
and it altogether disapperared.
I burst, as it shattered through me like a bullet through a bottle,
and I'm expected to believe that any of this is real."

But Which

   "“So the peace you had,” she says,
   “I must confess, I’m glad to see it go.”

   I’ve made you so happy and so sad,
   But which should I be more sorry for?"

Seldom I Come Its Way

I loathe and crave normalcy just the same
but either way it so seldom comes my way

Skin And Skeletons

The sunlight seeps through open shades,
and I am mesmerized, in awe of what a clean slate,
white canvas the light has truly made,
your back,
you're back,
I am here, but far gone,
you, just another thing to project so much on.

Feigned

"I walk heavy on delicate ground
Oh, there I go showing off again
Self-impressed by how well I can put myself down
and there I go again, to the next further removed 
level of that same exact feigned humility
and this for me goes on and on"

I Had A Rusty Spade

"I wrote a little song for you with a melody I'd borrowed put to
words that didn't rhyme to repeat what you already knew,
as the stones thrown at your window tapped in syncopation.

You kept a distance out of fear you'd break,
but what good's a single windchime hanging quiet all alone?
The music our collisions would make
is the sound that turns the road that leads us back home into home.

I had a rusty spade, but I'm not the fighting sort.

So spare me your goodbyes, your waving-handkerchief goodbyes.
Given my tendency to err so on the sentimental side,
I will spare you my goodbyes.
The truth belongs to God. The mistakes were mine."

Are Blessed But

  "Those who believe without seeing are blessed, but they tend to be bad conversationalists."

Tomorrow I Will Pick You Up At The Airport

I will be uncomfortable about things like what music to play, and everyone who knows me knows I am a bad host
I will probably accidentally put on the song that you told me you want to have sex to the most

and you will look the same but feel different
and I will look the same and feel gross

you will know every secret detail of my life, I will pretend not to care
and I will unavoidably think of every other fucking time I've gone there

Rehearsed Indifference

     "I said “water,” expecting the word
     Would satisfy my thirst
     Talking all about the second and third
     When I haven’t understood the first.

        And she always weighed me down
        But, afraid I might need her, I dragged her around
        (It’s best to keep close sackcloth and ash in a whitewashed town)
        She wore that phony smile on her face,
        I guess like a bandage on a wounded place
        While I kept the keys to every old lock just in case.

Rehearsed indifference tossed aside,
Our narrow arms spread wide,
“What unseen pen etched eternal things on the hearts of humankind -
But never let them in our minds?”

                   Oh, the clouds, they brought a darkness
                   And a hard rain’s gonna fall
                   And all my laughter, ends in emptiness
                   And a hard rain’s gonna fall.
                   My every medicine, causes more illness
                   And a hard rain’s gonna fall
                   And until I let you go I didn’t know, you were never mine at all!

But now I spend my days in ever-increasingly complicated ways
Convincing myself of the rightness of each word I say
My exit, unfair and unobserved! My exit, unfair and unobserved! My exit, unfair!"

Unconditional

     Luckily I knew, lessons that hard you only have to learn once.
    UNDERONECONDITIONAL.

Sinking Slow

You were in my dream, as you have been quite a bit, and I was not drowning, my head was above water, but I was not far from it. No one heard the cries for help over the laughter, my cries, and my laughter.
“…people who talk about their dreams are actually trying to tell you things about themselves they’d never admit in normal conversation. It’s a way for people to be honest without telling the truth.”