sanctuary

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Jan 312007
 

can you find me soft asylum?
the doors

it’s a sharp day…pointy…biting. and i’m oblivious.

californication…

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Jan 142007
 

the one place to go and taste the real. the fat slap in the face answer with every soft voiced phone call. oh yeah. go back to there. where it wasn’t all rosy and pink. when the bitter taste traveled blocks from venice beach…

ran through your system and came out rolling down your cheeks. a fucked up juliet, you sat up top a ferris wheel, hoping it’d roll into the sea.

and in between sweaty parties in south pasedena, you sneak out and follow the full moon down, down, past jasmine gardens, cacti, and rattlesnakes… you light up and let the nicotine mess your head. and that’s as far as you go. you pass on the trendy japanese beer, old gorgeous blue eyes, and david’s waiting too long sweet heart.

and on the last night, before the last day, you pack your ragtag bags, face your broken heart, cry it out ’til you fall asleep…

did i know that i would never see you again? did i know that’d i’d be writing this here?

it’s only a long life scene, burned inside memory.

waiting…

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Jan 122007
 

i was there for you baby, when you needed my help, would you deny for others, what you demand for yourself
u2

running in place. sometimes the pace is a little frantic…sometimes, it’s just plain slow. and then sometimes, i just stop and drown it out with a beer. drown your essence. hold its slick head under…

and it never dies. it’ll never die. and that scares me. because i don’t know what else to do…but run and drown your memory in alcohol concoctions…
~~~

and where is the peace? when can i place my head on the pillow and just sleep, dreamless? starless? hopeless? are you still this real? is the line, drawn by so many years, that separates us real? i can’t tell anymore.

everyday, i talk to you. everyday, i have no clue. everyday, i feel a little closer to insanity…to the black hole your star created.

on your mark…

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Jan 082007
 

get set…

it’s okay. and despite the ever growing distance between me and long ago situations, i understand now. i see. i feel. i know. it’s alright. life is too important to live in regret, in i’m sorry, in stale hurt.

it’s alright, to long for home, even if it’s a moving target ever morphing into differently arranged molecules. the challenge is recognizing it when you feel it.

home is here, it’s I for me.

home, is where i want to be, but i guess i’m already there
t-heads

lucky #7…

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Jan 072007
 

sunday afternoon. and lucky 7 sleeps balled up in a comforter and soft sea-green sheets. she’s tired. she’s hurting… and dreaming along with long lost tunes that dance her heart into yesterday. back when she was a little bit younger, a little bit softer…and stupid. idealistic to the point of believing the impossible…of what came from his soft crooked lips.

and so she runs. amidst the multitudes, alone on quiet sunday morning streets. and there is no answer to reach. no huge exclamation point. no neon orange traffic cones, marking any distinct destination. just bruised heels and sore quads. and this makes it real. makes what’s balled up inside solid and easier to deal with.

i run. and sometimes, that makes you as far as the other side of the world. other times, you’re too damn close.