take your time

it's like early morning movement
that you always attempt to avoid
and the assignment turned in early
which seems not worth the work
the extra second singing in the shower
before you brush your teeth and run
it's the perfection you're pursuing
and the shortcuts that shut the door
with what you've wanted giving way
to the little loves you're living for.

the brightest

i can't see past the pane
reflecting my face roughly
wrought with ripples rendered
restless through the years yet young
and the clearness once crystal
has been bent but unbroken left
keeping track of time unkept
and watching with wisdom unsaid
but seen clearly through clarity
and transparency that transforms
as the lights unlit slowly eclipse
the flickering from a flipped switch.

thoughts at the top

the seatbelt strap and my stomach
make themselves more than friends
as hidden hills take hold of my heart
wringing the rush like water from rag
dripping adrenaline through my frame
triggering my train of tousled thought
causing the questions to commence
of whether the ride has been repeated
or only the feelings familiarly thrust forth.

sun shining through bare branches

this is pressed between pages
with letters fleeting like falling leaves
and memories making homes
in the hollowed out heads of autumn
and while the winds welcome winter
fall is not forgotten, let alone lost
and daydreams painted on pure skies
come down coyly in fragile frost.

true religion this is not

of course compassion comes quickly
when those receiving are sure to return
the favor done for friends rather than
gifts given to strangers with uncertainty
about the appreciation and wondering
whether the sacrifice was accepted as
the act of love intended and directed
at the hands that held it at the start
because i tend to wash the feet of friends
before bending to beggars' level and
even this page is about the people i prefer
the ones who return what i said i never
wanted back but expected from them nonetheless.

i prefer to hide my pride

it's disgusting how disgusted i get
at self-centered songs i sing myself
when i'm the one watching silently
waiting restlessly with words to write
because a silent pen is less offensive
than profanity proudly poured out
and neglecting the name that saves
makes me better than taking it in vain

listening to the smiths

i am cutting edge
a few years too late
making mix tapes
with stacks of cds
and underground obsessions
uncovered ages ago
reading on the road
when beat's gone by
already resurrected
even buried once again
just borrowing books
from the older brother
i made for myself
with a library card
and an itunes account.

change is my only consistency

forget the features of my face
they're nothing but a fading fad
i have a mask for every month
scratch that make it every minute
my mind's less steady than sand
and i'm constantly sinking down
through unstable surroundings
searching for myself in my mess.