poems.

UNTITLED 1

This is a constant mess,
My life scattered on guest checks and paper scraps.
If only these words could describe the reality of the situation,
And not the over dramatic scriptures of “woe is me.”
I am sick and tired of the constant blur of everyday life,
And I am sick and tired of bitching about it.
I am willing to let go, if someone is willing to catch me,
Or at least break my fall.
________________________________________________

UNTITLED 2

This moment is a still frame in my mind,
And soon it will hit the cutting room floor like all the rest.
All of the memories of life, stock piled in the corner of my mind
Constantly growing as each second passes,
And each being triggered with every familiar scent.

Out the car window it goes, like all the rest, tumbling down the freeway.
I need to set my mind free on the open road.
It’s where I need to be.

I need the California sun.
I am sick of dreaming for tomorrow.
I live for today.
I love today.
________________________________________________

UNTITLED 3

This melody will ring on in your brain until the season comes to hault,
And all the joy inside will subside.
It starts earlier and earlier each year to keep your hopes high,
To distract you from the collapse of all around you.

Keep singing the same songs if that's what makes you happy.
It will keep you pushing onward in these times where we wish we were far away.
Maybe things will change one of these days,
maybe things will change.