fu

the trick is, to keep breathing

Take what's left of me
Put it in your box of tricks
And hide it so far away

Stop this gray charade
Keep the cards in closer
I can see all
The mess you make

Why did you come here
And if you leave here
It wont be hard
Why did you come here
And if you leave here
You wont be alone

Is this the place
That I can't escape
No it wasn't really
Meant for me

Take your firey tongue
And your circus clothes
And get out
While you can

If, I hang around
Keep and eye on the
Low down dirty dogs
The dusty road

Why did I come here
Fall asleep here
Hypnotized by your charm
Why did I come here
And will I leave here
Forsaker of my own

Is this the place
That I cant escape
No it wasn't really
Meant for me

Hold on
I'm back here again
The fire's 'round my neck
It's burning me to death
Hold on
I'm back here again
The fire's 'round my neck
It's burning me to death

Oh just leave me here

a quiet rage

You call it Madness, I call it Love

You will be out with friends, when the news of her existence will be accidentally spilled all over your bar stool. 
Respond calmly as if it was only a change in weather, a punch line you saw coming.
After your fourth shot of cheap liquor, leave the image of him kissing another woman.

In the morning, her name will be in every headline: car crash, robbery, flood.
When he calls you, ignore the hundreds of ropes untangling themselves in your stomach.
You are the best friend again. He invites you over for dinner and you say yes too easily... 
Remind yourself this isn’t special, it’s only dinner, everyone has to eat.
When he greets you at the door, do not think for one second you are the reason he wore cologne tonight.

In his kitchen, he will hand-feed you a piece of red pepper. 
His laugh will be low and warm and it will make you feel like candlelight. 
Do not think this is special.
Do not count on your fingers the number of freckles you could kiss too easily.
Try to think of pilot lights and olive oil, not everything you have ever loved about him,
or it will suddenly feel boiling and possible and so close. 
You will find her bobby pins laying innocently on his bathroom sink.
HER bobby pins. They look like the wiry legs of spiders, splinters of her undressing in his bed. 
Do not say anything.
When he hugs you goodbye, let him kiss you on the forehead.
Settle for target practice.

You will want to call him.
You will go as far as holding the phone in your hand, imagine telling him unimaginable things like;
 You are always ticking inside of me and I dream of you more often than I don’t.
My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.

Do not call him.
Fall asleep to the hum of the wind.
She must make him happy.
She must be!
She must be his favorite place.
You are a souvenir shop, where he goes to remember how much people miss him when he is gone.

the tide that left, never came back

So I threw your letter into the flame
And watched the fire regain
And these words have done nothing for you
As I did not read them through
Now turned to ash in the flume

And colors are dull
As the feeling of the cold
And memories fall
As the fire is getting old
Oh and I once more am now

Don't you fret I'll find my way
Carefully walking from the devil's plane
And I know why you did not follow me
Pride swallowed me then led me astray

And now the dark in me has now seen the day
Oh my chill has now lost its way
And these hands that once had helped me to pray
They are limp in utter dismay
Oh they fall in their disarray

And colors are dull
As the feeling of the cold
And memories fall
As the fire is getting old
Oh and I once more am now

Oh don't you fret I'll find my way
Carefully walking from the devil's plane
And I know why you did not follow me
Pride swallowed me then led me astray

"I'm a recovering undercover over-lover, recovering from a love I can't get over"

when music helps to put thoughts into words