Silver Linings and Repetition

Tattooed on a silver line that no longer exists to you anymore. I picture in my over worked, over imaginative, sometimes slightly cynical mind an American flag hanging in spite of it all mixed with pride and pure vengence so deep that it cuts as easy as razor blades. I imagine you on a green lush field overgrown with tall grass and weeds, riding a horse with your rifle raised, never even caring or giving a second thought about age or time. Your fit uniform is stained an off shade of blue, or is it gray? It all looks alike after a while. Like a cloudy day with a gray sky, slight dusky blue peeking through. The whole word turns the same color for once through the rearview mirror. It may all look differently in hindsight. A revolution. Will it ever come raining down like you have expected for so long? Or will we all go our own way? There is in fact so many different sides to the dice and pieces to the inside of the Kaleidoscope. Is there any gray or is it simple black and white?
You, how can you see yourself so clearly in the mirror when your vision is so blinded by double standards and favortisim? If I disagree with you, you assume that I suspect that you just may be wrong. Well, maybe you are. Maybe I am. Maybe one day we'll find out why this whole world is so pissed off at one another. Your silence is way too loud though and rings in my ears. I fidget uncomfortably in my chair listening to you slam things around taking your aggression out on everything but who you are really angry at. Do I comprimise myself? What do I do? Truce? Maybe not. Not unless I want to pretend to care about what I don't. Not unless I want to to sit back with my hands tied and agree about how I am everything but right.
And you, finally we're down to you. I have cared about you for so long. And for what? So that you can pretend to listen and then do the same stupid things in repetition? If only. If only I could take back everything I had ever said to you. Every word. You never even heard me screaming in the corner of the room. Everything turns dark. I need the lights on. I need that from you. But it doesn't matter. You are too busy washing the pills down your throat to numb yourself because you can't deal with the kind of things the rest of us have to face. The demons. The roads. The dreams. Reality. Your furturistic hopes are down the sink. You don't care and you don't listen. So...I don't care and I won't listen. Not anymore. But easier said. Because I do care. But not about your decisions or rants anymore. Not about that. It's never been about that. And not even because I want to. But only because I'm used to it.

And Now We're Here...

I have thought it up at night in the simple darkness of it all. Inspired and wrapping myself in the same scent I've been trying to keep for as long as I can. As long as I'm allowed. But I've worn this faded sweater so much that my own scent is mixing in, tainting what I knew.
What I knew.

Hangers hanging/ hanging sweaters dangling/
Dangling in air waiting to be worn/ worn by you/
You, you're not here so their just hanging/ hanging on the back of my chair lonely/
Lonely as I am here without you/ You, you're gone/
Gone as if you had never existed but I found/ found I hope that you have found what you wanted so that you could feel/
Feel the way that you have deserved to for so long so/ so I'll write this in the dark/
Dark in the night/ night but not as dark/
Dark as the night you left.
So now we're here...
Now we're here...

Afraid Of The Sun

Afraid of the Sun
Blue eyes blue/
Blue eyes flame/
You found me here/
I screamed your name.
You've burned within me/
I'm a girl on fire/
And I never knew/
That I have walked that wire.
I've searched for you/
Behind thin trees/
In the branches/
And behind the leaves.
Oh, how I've breathed you in/
I have felt you near/
Fingertips reaching/
But you found me here.
You are in the air/
The water on my skin/
You are invisible and fierce/
Everywhere we have been.
We've met eachother yet again/
In your dream or is it mine?
Our memories have been erased/
And your blue eyes shine.
Brown eyes brown/
Brown eyes saved/
I loved you first/
But he made me brave.
My arrow is aimed/
The bow string released/
My heart is steady/
A dagger at my feet.
Red is red/
Blue veins, green/
I live a life that's mine/
A seperate life unseen.
Yes, you think you know me/
You call me your daughter/
But I'm some one else/
She jumped and he caught her.
You, always you/
You're a simple purple haze/
But still you continue to find me/
In this wayward maze.
When will it be my turn?
When can I be the hero?
Who will win this war,
When the blood count is zero?
Blue eyes blue/
Brown eyes brown/
Yes, I've loved you both/
But he steadys me now.
Pushing out the wicked/
And pulling out the light/
I can't be afraid of the sun anymore/
Nor the stars at night.

Blue eyes haunt me all the time. It's the same shade of blue, never darker or lighter. I see them everywhere in every crowd and on a strangers faces. But they don't belong there. It all seems so wrong. They belong with you, not the kid on the street or the man standing in line at the grocery store. It's all wrong. Every detail branded and remembered. But the memorization is utterly right.

I've screamed the same name in life, in dreams, and in memories. Sometimes they all combine so I can't understand or decipher what is real or what should be. Sometimes it feels like I've dreamed it up on bad days, on the good ones he is as real as he ever was to me. Burning through my veins and pulsating in my blood I smell the same scent that comes from nowhere for just a moment to make the ache worse. Or does it go away? I choose the latter.

The brown eyes I will always remember. Dark and light all at the same time. Two sides of one coin joined together on one side. Sometimes they seem gold and the specks of green are always there. They are the same eyes of my daughters. They are the same eyes that saved me from my own destruction just as much as the blue ones had. My blue ones are gone, the brown ones are here. And oh they could haunt but I hope they never will.

Both colors in seperate eyes saw me the same way. They both saw me for me. Who I am and not who everyone else in th world expected me to be. Acceptance is it's one kind of salvation. I know. And those eyes are the only ones who will ever understand me the way that feels so right. The kind of right where nothing else can possibly go wrong. The day is complete. My life...complete.

Completion...another salvation of it's own.

Oh how I've loved you both. One I loved first but it doesn't take away from how terribly much I love the second. It all ends with one final thought. Which is my favorite eye color? Blue or brown?

They have both made me brave and saw past every gaurd to see me and heal me. They both are the most beautiful colors. The blue as blue as a southern cloudless sky on a hot summer day, and a brown that isn't dark and isn't light but equally both with a strange hue of gold and always, always green speckled in.

Both...I see...everyday.

But because of them I am not afraid of the sun.
Never.

The Rabbit Hole

The Rabbit Hole
It's all right there inside yourself/
The key to what's inside your mind/
It's all released, every impurity/
And the locks and chains that bind.
The impurities make me shrink and cower/
Hanging from a velvet rope/
Dirty injustice somewhat shattered/
Fear is great but not as great as hope.
I get these words in my mind/
My fingers won't sit still/
The air in my lungs burn to speak them/
But underestimation burns out will.
Someone try to decipher my words/
They're here like an ancient scroll/
Unravel, distinguish, work out the measures/
Fall further down the rabbit hole.

The Middle Of Nowhere

The Middle of Nowhere
Insanity is in the crowd/
Sanity is insane/
The way we run the course/
Routine in our own game.

Lame and lagging/
Dragging your feet/
Until you need me most/
To keep you off your knees.

Avoiding the knives/
And the arrows meant for you/
I defend the defenseless/
And the arrogant too.

Sane is to be insane/
I hate the choices they make/
I hate how you say words/
And the chances you never take.

Lame is to burned/
Hung up at the stake/
Dangling from the tree/
Until every branch breaks.

Daggers in my hand/
The sword at my side/
You repeat stupid things/
Behind a smile you hide.

Sane is to be loved/
And to hide who you are/
Parked under the streelight/
Waiting in your car.

Different is to be burdened/
With the burden of you/
But I can't say I love you/
Or the things that you do.

What am I saying?
Where does it comes from?
It comes from nowhere/
And the things that we run from.

At least for me sometimes I feel as black as the night around me. Sometimes I feel like laying in the sun. Sometimes I wish for rainstorms and sometimes I just want to feel the warm wind around me blowing and weaving in my hair and the dirt under my barefeet. But who can understand that?
Of course everyone wants to be around you when you are in the best of moods. Of course they want to talk and call you their friend. But they really only love a part of me.
Only the ones who love all of me will be there when the world goes black. When the days turn dark and the nights even darker. They will be their when my filter drops and I can't hold back what it really is that I want to say, what I'm scared to say.
Only the ones who love all of me know that it won't last but they won't tell me how  to feel when I'm there either. They will let me stare out of the window and drift into another world. They will quit talking when they know I'm not listening or maybe they will even continue to talk anyway. They will be the ones that I will want with me when I want my time in the sun and fresh air. They will be the ones that I want to smile and laugh with. They will be the ones that I lay out and watch the stars with and try to figure out life with. They will be the ones that I will never have to pretend for. And they are the ones that I love the most.

Alice With Another Face In A Tripped Up Wonderland

Harsh lighting and foggy windows/
Owls screech and coyotes prowl/
Streaked panes with dirty fingers/
Stretching for the moon a wold howls.
Full and beautiful, my fingertips burn/
Blowing out a flame in an unmatched dark/
Never seeing what I should, my eyes will learn/
Digging barefeet to catch the last spark.
Trees are calling, falling, being ripped out my the roots/
You may not know what I say now but soon you will understand/
The streetlights are dimming to match the shadows on your face/
Casting my luck I bore fire from my hands.
White dresses drag the floors and the doors creak/
Dusty, broken stairs once led to you/
The photos don't look real anymore, they're from another world/
One with a maze that I can't get through.

We can never really run from what we were meant to be. It's a path that we have to follow through. We may be able to make our own decisions but you can never drown out what is really inside of you. Smothering it would only mean lying to yourself. True nature through time shows itself. People change? Maybe. But sometimes they just really slip up and show you who they really are, the one that they've hidden from you in the dark. Everything is brought to light.

Sometimes it may seem we are Alice in Wonderland. Nothing is as it seems to be. We're dirty, impure, and  our reflections easily streak with truth. Our truth. You may not know what I say now but soon  you will understand. The streetlights are dimming to match the shadows on your face my dear.

Pretending. You can pretend so much that you believe it yourself for a while.Pretend that you are someone else. Pretend that you like something else or that you don't love what you are reaching for every night. Your heart will still always find it's way back to what it was born to love.what it was born to be. And no matter who you are, you're different, you're magical, you're beautiful. Because you are different.

Whisper and Whine

Whisper and Whine

Stay with me and fight the dark/
Lose your sight and miss your mark/
Tattooed, branded. burned by flame/
Blue, green, and thirsty, the undead game.
Light is dark, dark is light/
Stand to run, I'm wrong you're right/
There's no gray area, no silver line/
It starts with a scream and whispers a whine.
For everyone who ever wanted to stay/
You've run off the track and lost your way/
Hansel and Gretel leave your moonbeams behind/
Scattered with crumbs that you'll never find.
Oh, the holy games as wicked as you/
Passing judgements knowing everything that you do/
You live yours and I'll live mine/
Together we'll leave something far behind.
Because you live in the sun and I in the night/
You block out my stars and I your light/
Dear Hansel, and oh Gretel keep your moonbeams in your pocket/
Keep your sister at your side and my picture in your locket.
Find me when I need you/
Love me while I'm here/
Keep me in your heart/
And cry me in your tears.
I'm light, you're dark, you're dark and light/
Blue is blue and wrong is right/
Twisted, distorted, a grand way to scheme/
To change what's real and what we see.
But for now I'm blue and you are green/
We'll intertwine together as fire unseen/
Fire is fire but the earth is power/
It'll rip down the wires binding this hour.
Screaming and crying, whispers and whines.
Screaming and fighting, whispers and cries.