Lazarus

WAKE UP.

and I did.
my eyelids peeled open like the skin of a fruit. peeling skin like a dead layer of scorched earth. stretching and snapping. awoken from the deepest sleep you've ever fallen into.
raised again like Lazarus from the dead, eyes struggling to focus while the light pours into pupils like a mouthful of blood washed down the drain.
catapulting straight up and finding yourself in a ninety degree angle, arms outstreched grasping for a whisp of vanishing sanity. evaporating like smoke from my mouth. from your mouth.

tack up. bleed dry. left empty.

a quote

"That song kind of flows all over the place with different ideas, but the main idea being rebirth and rebuilding and taking a well needed bath, you know? i did a little it of that in the last year & it's great to clear your head, get rid of everything, then you realize normally you can only see like ten feet in front of you because the fog is so dense of all the chemicals in your mind once you clear it all away & you can see forever then you immediately get scared and realize why you take all of those things all the time. it's good to at least visit that once in a while, clarity." -Conor Oberst

for you, great youth.

why on this tiny little planet do i care? what about this name keeps my stomach twisting and my mind conscious until early morning hours?

and to preach in secret to a nocturnal choir. a group of individuals clad in dark clothing supporting my lofty ideas. "hallelujah" they'll say and at once everyone understands. rushing to spit words into the microphone, to feed knowledge.

commandeering wavelengths and high-jacking frequencies that dig into your brain so deep that you'll never be able to shut your eyes again. you'll just come pouring out of your room and bury your head into my neck, tears rolling down like fresh rain drops on a window pane.

and to Jack, who i once wanted to be in an instant, i scream that i am a writer.

and to me, Jack understands, and applauds. the whole room rises to their feet as my palms begin to sweat. deeply rooted like the firmly stationed podium…i can sway but never topple. and erupting, the room splatters applause against the white walls, like an artistic depiction of a one way ticket to everywhere.

harmony

trains traversing America
the station's home for the because
the outbound line is a catalyst, for change

with your feet planted firmly on the floor, palms turned up to face the lord
make it a crazy one cause you know he's bored, today.

feigning interest in the music man,
the fire's out..will it come again?
I can't waste my time askin when & where, hooray.

so give..me..white lines
gimme sunshine rain and how
you plan to keep this chain unbound,
Friend.

my father won't be a happy man
when he learns of what I've done again
burying his face into his weathered hands, the tears

so you dig your grave & you step inside
you're feelin dead but not quite enough to die.
When you finally lay down I hope you fly, away.

when the sunflower turns to face the sun, he realizes what he's done
he steps from the flower and he is born, again.

web it tapers off and you're left confused, standing there don't know what to do
when the stalk is strong and the petals bloom, she says

so you ask for pain cause you like it now, you get set up to be let down
It's a cycle here that you have found, run away

like a museum piece in artificial light, in a glass case you've given up the fight
just sleep it away as they stop and point, you play.

the loft

i've made plans before.

i've made plenty of well orchestrated and thought out events that play over and over in my head like a bumped-into-compact-disc. but while sitting in this darkened box of a living space, i remember plastic smiles. glimmering teeth burned into my memory somewhere between:

a. the need to pay the rent,

and

b. my first girlfriend.

dinners played out on sunday evenings. fine china winking under heavy light living in the ceiling. china that shines like it has a secret that you'll never know.

wooden floorboards so frequently trafficked, intelligent feet can go undetected.

and these nights are the nights i miss the most.

in a bench supposedly filled with chlorine, tablets, and other cleansing materials

we stored guns and ammunition.

we stored hope and childhood.

we stored happiness and shelter.

and now i've reached the first shelf of this great climb, and i've found that these are the memories you share at dinner. these memories are why family gather. and so we gather. and so we share.

and we are family.

in their darkest dreams.

I can't see you. I can't hear you. But I know you're alive. It's comforting to feel you dwelling in the darkest part of me. To know that you exist keeps my thoughts active and my mind wandering. You should know this isn't easy for me.
And we drain our necks in poetic fashion.
Still, the waves of blue are born to beat back the waves of red. Waves that drown us and haphazardly draw our eyes up to fall into an...evil stare.

What is this?

I now find myself feigning these emotions, and I cannot help it. But I like it.

And you won't ever know.

you can't force it. you can't threaten the spring to come and melt the ice and snow. for that pond to return to messy liquid, you have to let it come.

you can't catch tears falling from sad sad eyes. you have to let them fall and soak the carpet. to stain the shag, just let it come.

and for what it's worth, this coffin is no longer a coffin. these cold dreams are nothing worth dwelling on but rather something to look back on.

emergency broadcast.

and what could it mean

when thoughts do careen

crooked hands placed over a narrow spine

and when fingers can tremble

shoulder blades resemble

crumbling walls, cellars of wine

in raising a glass

to remember the past

i can never recall the color of flames

to spill out the best

and be rid of the rest

for a lover to call me by the middle name of james.

while standing up straight

storms seem to abate

i could swear it's the semblance of lightening skies

but the eye of the storm

for which i was not warned

is the cause of light rain, and hollow deafening cries.

so a blanket to cover

and a head undiscovered

while lightning can flash and project shadows on walls

in a basement's precaution

flipped a light switch of option

to a cavernous thunder echoing down the halls.