The Passion of the Pen

All this passion bottled inside me
I think that’s where the trouble comes from
Where the “If I could just get out of my skin and go somewhere” feeling starts
A quiet volcano rumbling just below my right temporal lobe
Threatening to melt me inside out
And the only pressure valve is here in front of me
If only I could get passed the film, this velum that holds me in
I can see passed it to the blurry beyond, watery shapes and thoughts not fully formed
But just at the tip of my tongue
If I could write while I dream, set my hand on auto pilot
It might come out better
While I sleep the epiphanies come and the world takes order if I could grasp those images and take them with me as I wake
To throw them on paper and cement their existence
If they are not to be released before the pressure peaks
Like Pompeii it’ll be, infant sentences frozen in shape as they were the last moments of their life
Like super heroes flying by leaving but a trail of red cape, wearing masks to conceal their true face, my most creative thoughts costume themselves during daylight hiding as if vampires only to suckle on my life when I close my eyes.

Fill It With Music

One note
Beat
Slow and soft
Draw it out
Breathing deep
Caress the room
Sliding guitar strums
Down my back
Bring me to life now
In another realm
Beat
Flying faster
Moister on my windows
Evidence of excitement
Sing it loud!

What I Miss Most

Saw your car today
Drivers seat empty and parked around back
How much is triggered by a simple thing
That red paint, the memory it brings

I still have my spare key
Unlocked the door; curiosity
But found not sign of your life with me

Wonder how it'd make you feel
If I were to reveal
How cold and strange it is to grip
Another steering wheel

Bet you thought my secret would be
How it's hard to sleep without you next to me
But I find, even if I dig way inside
That I miss that damn Jeep more than you

I packed up and left all my things behind
Threw my old life and pictures aside
It had been over for months but was hard to admit
We had invested a lot, I just couldn't quit
Until you proved what a true ass you are
I filled a suitcase and got away far

I looked back just once
To catch a last glimpse
Of the four-wheel drive I knew I would miss
My two door with sunroof is no substitute
I miss that Jeep Wrangler more than you

Stumbling Towards 30

Today I feel
the full weight of my body
I feel the muscle in my neck
and the skin on my arms
Most days I move through space
at a younger rate
Somedays I am six years old
But I'm never my current age
Stuck between my teenage woes
And of being taken seriously
It's in my face when buying jeans
I know it's how I'm seen
Not yet full grown
but I'm all grown up
Not ready for babies
but I hear the ticking clock
During the week I work on my career
and on the weekends, nothing is clear
Stumbling towards 30
Hands and dreams getting dirty

Closer Than It Appears

Driving with the music on
Volume turned to ten
I've listen to this song ten thousand times
And a hundred over again
The drum keeps pulse of the road I'm traveling down
The bass helping me search
For a feeling that can't be found
I sing the words in step and tune
And convince myself I'm not singing for you
The sky is dark and clear
It's a straight shot straight out of here
But the scene in my rear view mirror
Keeps creeping up, it's growing nearer
The memory of that aiport is
Closer than it appears
But I'm crossing the town line
And my heart is switching gears

This Isn't About You

Getting under the covers and the air is feeling thin
Your side lays cold as the darkness settles in
And in the morning light
When the sun shines through
There's still no sign of you

I'm alone in a one-bedroom
With a bed meant for two

The walls are growing closer
With every step you take away
We shuffle around in seperate places now
I never thought I'd see the day

And each word unspoken
Adds miles between our hearts
Two seperate lives now meant to live apart

I'm alone in a one-bedroom
With no pictures of you

This place unlike others
Is free of your scent
It's void arguments
And all the good intentions meant

I'm alone in a one-bedroom
Reveling in my breakthrough