A Chord

She doesn’t strike a chord
She just presses keys down gently
And lets her music
Linger through the night.
I let it play, I let it play
I let it hold me till the day.

Where's The Thief For Me

It’s a long walk back to bed tonight,
A long walk passing strangers, dodging drunks
And pressing the full weight of my evening
Against the silence of the sidewalk.
All night I spent a thief,
Stealing glances here and there,
Taking what I could from the people all around me,
Hoping that some criminal mastermind
Would find a way into me,
Into the places I try so hard to hide
And make off with something precious.
I’d let them have it, I tell you, I wouldn’t put up a fight
I’d let them steal whatever they like.

We All Fit

You wouldn’t remember all the nights
I spent writing you into existence,
Dreaming each and every feature
To catch me by surprise
When you crossed my path by accident
And made me realize
I wasn’t a fool to believe
That good things can happen
To silly optimists who spend
What little time they have
Making up stories and dreaming,
But if you did you may recall the moment
I held in my bed
When I came to appreciate
That though we weren’t made for each other
We all fit just the same.

Mental Health Week

It’s mental health week
And I’m unhealthy
Because I’m drunk and poor
And feeling wealthy,
And all my conclusions
Are if, ands or buts
But who gives a shit
Cuz I’m feeling nuts
But when the night’s over
And it’s just me
And I look in the mirror
And I’m all I can see
I think to myself
There’s no mystery
Why all these people
Are convinced they’re crazy.

Three Of Us

In an empty house
We three wanderers
Sat ragged by a fire
All high and full of stories,
Unable to hide from tomorrow
But not afraid to try.
That night she let the light of the flames
Dance across each of her twenty two years
As she lay lengthwise
And alerted the two others in the room
And the great silence of the cosmos
That she was alive and beautiful.

God Knows, I Don't

God knows what time it is
And God knows what’s going through
All these pretty girls heads
And God might know everything
But he sure ain’t sharing it with me
Because I’m swimming in a club,
I’m jumping with everyone else
I’m laughing and screaming and shouting
And trying to find God
In all the least likely places.
It’s divine squalor and flashing lights
And I’m loving every minute of it
As we let the pounding beat
Pound our hearts to mincemeat.

Words Are Meant For Daytime

I hate myself, she said
As we lay there in bed,
A bottle of wine gone straight to her head.
So I turned around
And I uttered a sound,
But it didn’t reach her, it just fell to the ground
And sprouted a question, or rather a weed,
Do I shut up, or do I proceed?
Do tell her the things that she wants to hear?
Do press my lips up close to her ear
And whisper sweet nothings that she won’t believe,
She won’t believe because she doesn’t want to believe,
She just wants to see me try and retrieve
The one good thing that we felt
From all the feelings we were dealt.
But that’s gone now and in its place
I see her face,
I see this body that she hates
Balanced before me on a scale of weights.
I see her breasts, her ears, her skin,
I see those goose bumps prickle up again,
I see her cheeks, her neck, her hair,
I see the eyes into which I stare
And I’ve so many words
But none are right
So I’ll leave them with the silence
And drift deep into the night.