One Last Time
Look my way just one more time
Before the clock strikes 12
Descending us into the nights darkness
This light won't last forever
Nothing ever does
Walk with me one last time
Before we drift apart into the sea
The tides sway back and forth
With such force
Like the heart does when falling in and Out of love
The wind blows around us
As we take a deep breath and
Say goodbye
For one last time...
I loved your flaws the most.
At the end of each day, we as humans are all flawed.
Each and everyone of us are capable
Of getting angry, and sad, we're all a little crazy and far from undamaged.
But we all have one thing in common.
And this is the burning desire to connect with
Another human being, on a much deeper level, to feel love
From that one person, who let's you know
That you were enough, for anyone.
So why is it that so many of us are alone?
We will waste our entire lives searching
For our version of that perfect someone
Who can not possibly exist.
When all we had to do was fall in love
With each other's flaws, and make the most
Of what little time we have here together. But instead, we just keep creating our own loneliness.
Friday Night
The dogs are barking again.
I'm sprawled on a heaping trash nest of clothes and towels and papers and plastic bags. I stare at the ceiling. I've been staring at the ceiling for hours. My ceiling looks like the moon's surface: sickly yellow-pale like old cottage cheese and riddled with craters.
Each bark is like a hammer blow to my head.
There are flies everywhere. My head is filled with buzzing. Blow flies and flesh flies and bloated house flies like black motors flying. They descend on the overflowing piles of trash. They dance in and out of the open drawers of the cabinets that lie upended on the floor. Everything in the room is crooked. The kitchen sink is clogged with stagnant ooze, where food chunks float on a sea of oily grease.
Someone runs above me, THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
and the dogs chase after them barking, yelping, baying like the hounds of hell.
Things moving behind me, things moving in the mirrors and in the windows. There are voices, like swarms of flies, the voices are needles drilling the buzzing into my skin, and there are thousands of them. It fills up the back of my eyes. They are talking about me, but I can't make out what they say.
The dogs are barking and barking and barking.
I’m standing on the table with a hammer and I swing that hammer over my shoulder and into ceiling. The dogs are going crazy as I bring the hammer harder and harder into the ceiling, punching holes, showering plaster on the carpet and into my hair and screaming face.
Have I been screaming the entire time?
Shouts from upstairs and I hear the neighbor's big booming voice as if he's right there in the room with me, “I’m going to fucking kill him!”
Stomping feet down the stairs, like an earthquake shaking my apartment.
I throw the hammer one more time at the ceiling, where it bounces off and thuds to the carpet, and I run into the decaying, stinking kitchen with the dingy lightbulbs and grab the wooden block of large butcher knives and carry it back to the door. I tuck it into my left armpit and my right hand lands on the doorknob like a distorted fly, separate from my body.
The pounding on the door intensifies.
The dogs are still barking. The room spins in a blurry funnel of colors and noises, and the neighbor is yelling something with his fists battering the door inches from my face.
The fly opens the door.
Yours
Six little miles as the crow flies, I
Just need a little distance, need a little time
Tell me all your reasons and I'll make them rhyme
Make some lines for you
Tell me 'bout your story and it could be a song
One you can relate to, one to carry on
Tell me all your demons and I can make them run
With a simple truth
Take this verse
However on earth
You're meant to
And get up
Dust off
Your feet
And move along