Monday, June 1, 2009

cab

This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don't.
You touch her skin and then you think
That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

I spent two weeks in Silverlake
The California sun cascading down my face
There was a girl with light brown streaks
And she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.
Yeah she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.

Wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking
As we moved together in the dark
And all the friends that i was telling
And all the playful misspellings
And every bite i gave you left a mark

Tiny vessels oozed into your neck
And formed the bruises
That you said you didn't want to fade
But they did and so did i that day

All i see are dark grey clouds
In the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you ask "was something wrong?"
That i think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.
No, we can't talk about it now."

So one last touch and then you'll go
And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
Yeah you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

why do you stop me


Love is enough to make you stop. Why do you stop me? I like the feeling of writing all night, eating chocolate by the open window, summer night moon coating the paper as your hand sweeps it scratching messy cursive, pen bleeding into the book beneath. You realize when you're alone you can see everything and when the lights are off you don't sleep.
You put on red lipstick and drink cold beer try on everything in your closet check your phone a million times text all your friends write and write about what you think and see and dream.

I like the feeling of being together.
When he is there you become the writing. You put down the pen, the makeup. You lay on your bed together all day talking about nothing. You read and dance with the music up all the way draw all night laugh so hard and you stop, for one second you finally stop you don't contemplate who you are you just are, there is nothing else.

why do you stop me? It is like dying and living, waking and dreaming
loving and being alone

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

out n about in the neighborhood

If you stare at yourself for long enough in the mirror you forget what looking like even means.