The Arcs Between us

the updated version for anyone who cares

Do you remember
when your square jaw
was In juxtaposition
to mine?
-- When homicide was never a crime
that jesus would commit?

I sparked the match
and inhaled the day
I swore I forgot.
I speak in hallucinations
You speak through the haze.
And since I sleep-walked
through your brain,
I feel the loss of control
taking over.

The sun permeates
through my scalp
and I hope you come and visit
my poor brain.

I hope you decide to walk
and sleep
together within
my clouded head.

And when you want to leave,
slide down my disorganized spine.
Trace the lines of where forever was charted.
I know it's just another lie,
told to entertain our thoughts
Till the snow comes again next winter.

She says everyone dies for a reason.
She says we've all
gotta experience the blues.
Remind me again:
why we are
only human?

Why do we have to sober up
when the party is finished?
Why do we have to slow down at the stop sign?
What happens
when our nerve endings in our fingertips
cant find their way to the brain fast enough?

Our actions on impulse
force the song to skip.
The light has been green
for over an hour.
And the chorus repeats
repeats
repeats
repeats.


Why were we meant to flinch?

Arcs between us

Do you remember
when your square jaw
was In juxtaposition
to mine?
-- When homicide was never a crime
that jesus would commit?
And as he passed through
from hope to sky
I spark the match
and inhale the day
I swore I forgot.

I speak in hallucinations
You speak through the haze.
And since I slept-walked
through your brain
I feel the loss of control
taking over.

The sun permeates
through my scalp
and I hope you come and visit
my poor brain.
I hope you decide to walk
and sleep
together
through my clouded head.

And when you want to leave
slide down my disorganized spine.
Trace the lines of where forever was charted.
I know its just another lie,
told to entertain our thoughts
Till the snow comes again next winter.

She says everyone dies for a reason.
She says we've all
gotta experience the blues.
Remind me again
why we are
only human?

Why do we have to sober up
when the party is finished?
Why do we have to slow down at the stop sign?
What happens
when our nerve endings in our fingertips
cant find its way to the brain fast enough,
And the world flips
and all thats left is goodyear
adrift.

Why were we meant to flinch?--
When the greatest harm
is a flag at half staff.

Chicka chicka rough draft

i know the grammar isnt too good
but other suggestions?

I have my mothers spine
stack the blocks up
insert head on top
The notches indicating
how far ive come-
instead of creating a lie to attach to it
Allowing the mistakes
to crawl inbetween the spaces
and let them nest there
dormant
but remember their existence

Ugh

When I was young
Father meant comfort--
Getting down on one knee
to button the jacket
that was a puzzle to my
fragile
fingertips.

Sometimes what should be
and what is
are never paralleled.

But when I look into the mirror
all i see is you.
Reflecting past mistakes,
hoping we are granted
another try.

And here we are
Everyday inhaling insecurities
Like oxygen.
Following the path
we were told
would lead us to success.
I'm stuck writing these stories
you know so well.

In reality father
means you.
Sitting back.
Relaxing.
Coors number 6
fingertips at the edge
of hate.

Too angry at failure
to button up my heart
in a ribcage too open.

Four

Four
Chloe J

I believe I come from
the Earth.
The only mother I've got.

I come from everything on this planet--
that has never had a say
in how it has been treated.
Brothers and Sisters in Christ
slice through leaves
for a new way to worship.


I am from where
You come from--
The hope that the grey sky
was a mere punishment.
For the clouded lies we present her,
and the tomorrow you thought
would never come.

I'm the cotton tee shirt
from the cotton fields.
I'm the cotton you thought pure,
until I came home a mess.

I push away
Over and over again.
And in return
a tear streaked sunset.
Is it possible to walk away
on such an inspiring mother?

9:56

Were we born perfect?
And then our environment forced sin upon us?
Or is our personality present at birth that affects the decisions we make?

I make no sense

Um

What is it that makes mornings so hard?
What is it that makes night so easy?