punk kids

driving from the lake
the only road to town
you turned at the light
i drove on by slowly
glancing over at you
to see your reflection
in the rear view mirror
see if you changed
since the last time
i saw you

i played drums
in your parents garage
you took up a guitar
best friend on bass
we made noise until
your father kicked us out
as the sun disappeared
you hugged me
with a cheek kiss
and a smile

that was fifteen years ago
your tattoos faded
but your eyes
still make me feel
younger then i was
blisters on my fingers
smile on our faces
no worries
till we depart again
in the dusk

old analogies, ring truer

i said it was a train
and you ride
on and on
there are stops
people coming
on and off
sometimes you talk
stay and bond
but eventually
they get off
then new ones
come aboard
sit beside you
until you both
depart

looking back
at blurred landscapes
wondering
where those
who left before
are now
is alluring
but they
transfered
headed elsewhere
so remember them
as they were then
just a passenger
along for the journey
to where you are

now

came to be

i used to know you
but then you drifted fast
came to be that we
would never last
friend to me
you look the same
though your voice
sounds familiar
the words you speak
aren’t your own
evermore foreign then
what i’d heard before
now we never cross
paths in lives we hold
closer now to stronger
hearts then ago
friend to me
gone away now
came to be that we
were farther gone then
i used to know

you

laws to you

what’s stopped you now
caught up in conversations
tied down to red anchors
bringing you to cold depths
can’t hear you complaining

everything ricochets off
an immovable object
without the blunt force
or raw speed built up
to break you apart

not too hard to understand
wrap up conundrums quickly
pushing back the pain
hardly unnoticeable
with the tiring feint

there is no hope here
binding this mess together
like brittle torch welds
left in the snow and rain
only to come apart again

a statuette of solitude
casting silhouettes of
sympathetic shadows
on a stained script sheet
of simple forgotten soliloquies

what don’t you get

i see you hid away
old words i gave you
when times were brief
but oh so lovely

papercuts on my hands
from the letters
i folded elegently
to send to you

tossed away carelessly
with torn pages
coffee stains
last weeks coupons

when i call you
i cry throughout
the entire voicemail
until i get cutoff

short of showing up
on your newsfeed
i’ve just been
so damn worn out

i just wished so hard
you could work me out
make me feel better
about being so wrong

but i took away
your not recycling
or using technology properly
but so good, at breaking my heart