forty-eight psalms (this one isn't really true)

some days i look up and say,
"god, you're not the sharpest tack,
but it's all right; i know you're great.
i know that someday you'll come back."

and this one could have been the last time,
so help me find my memory.
help me find the reason and rhyme.
help me find out what this could be.

if i show you chance, will you show me truth?
you're losing the race, but i'm still at the start.
let me put my insecurity in you.
i'm living twice as fast with half a heart.

i pushed away the fear inside.
silhouettes against the sky.

accident prone on a sunny day

hey, how's your
summer going?
this is when you really know.

a tic mark on the wall for
every broken arm and leg.
in the summer, i'm accident-prone.

i stared at hope, trying to
secure it in my mind,
but i've only got half of it down.

because there are other words
scrolling by, evicting my thoughts:
"it's brighter with you around."

i've been waiting two years
for my day to arrive,
i think it's still waiting in the wings.

and i nearly did some good,
but now i'm just all scratched up.
someday i'll tell you everything.

track eleven

a slow drum beat. a major chord.
my heartbeat echoes the bass line.
i'm not running down in circles anymore.
i'm happy. i really am.

i say:
"this night was a blessing."
the song says:
"sometimes. sometimes."

i wish there were more times like these.

the hammocks

three suns on the surface of the river.
flowers in the summer breeze.
skies the color of oceans.
two weeks spent hoping to hear your voice again.

i can't take my eyes off of you.
i can't take my eyes off of you.

eye alaska wrote a song called "i knew you'd never fly"

half of you is soaring. i can hear it.
but your other half is an anchor.
your sails are made of paper. they're tearing apart.
look up. sunlight is waiting for you to greet it.

you live on complete calm.
steady and sleeping. fearless and blind.
the origami tigers on your wall can only look so alive.
look up. darkness is waiting for you to find it.

all the sad, sorry words in the world can't give you redemption.
if you set yourself on fire, would you even notice?
burn bright. stay with me.
feel your heart beating. feel the fever that stirs you to sing.

i'm flying. you're dreaming.
please, help me out.

july 4th

i am talking about things i don't like
and i am acting like someone i am not
it's strange and sort of scary

i see my cousin and her "friend" by the volleyball net
she leans on him
i wish you were here to lean on me

there are chocolate-covered strawberries on a blue-checked plate
i know you like them
"do you want one?" i do not ask

watching fireworks, i am intensely conscious of
the empty space next to me
(there is actually a paper plate there)
it brings me down

i watch the spinners and the fireflies
i wonder which one you would like best

it's windy and i'm cold
if i were blocking the wind for you, i wouldn't mind
as it is, i mind

"are you all right?" my mother asks
"i miss her" i do not say
my voice reminds me that i am alone

i wish you were here
i think you'd like it
i know i'd love it

black pools of insomnia under his eyes

cigarettes don't seem like such a bad idea
crawl toward me. i want to see you do it.
are there scars on your palms and knees?
do we at least have that in common?

i'm not too strange for this.
i just close my eyes a lot. i just give myself headaches a lot.
the skin is stretched too tight across my temples.
my headaches. they scream. they thrash.

i usually don't believe in god.
pretty girls with cigarettes don't inspire much hope.
but after i collapse, i'll be able to keep crawling.
because i believe.

there's a song in my head. it only showed up when you showed up.
it can't be about you until i know why it's about you.

"see you in the shallows"

the rift in the hull spoke of sunken treasures,
when it screamed its dementia to me;
a seaborne storm is no way to measure
the breadth of any man's bravery;
since no mortal man can stand and face
the terror of the ocean's foaming wall,
each mortal man must take his place
on deck and wait for the wave to fall.

when the seething red dawn was over at last,
i stood on a cliff and looked down to the sea;
the angry tide was falling fast —
it showed me my crew, staring up at me.
i thought i saw blood, but i couldn't be sure;
i was distracted by the peaceful faces of my crew.
there could be no blood, the water's far too pure.
i leaped down to join them, in the clear, shining blue.