coffeewhiskey

oh and heres some late night unhappys


"some seismographs"

the second verse is deafening
she said this is the last you will hear from me
the epicenter is five heart beats away
the aftershock shakes my lips
and when i point the blame it echos
from my quivering fingertips
in two minutes time, we will fall apart
we burnt five hundred calories breaking up
I lost ten pounds and good ideas of better things
the drinking was bad and the poetry got worse
some seismographs never survive some earthquakes
they just keep shaking, are you still shaking?
and did your nice china survive the crash?
do you fall asleep in door frames,
in hopes the cover will keep,
are you still afraid of earthquakes like me?





"of all the things in bottles you'll read"

I've been collecting sickle finger nail peaks
where the rigid coast of my bedroom carpet
and the wall meet
the carpet is a collector of many things
with open arms, like ears to secrets they haven't heard
this one is a story, don't wait for that piano solo
this one tells a story, I've got a story
I haven't told you

and there are bottles in this sea
with hope and dreams that read
"please don't leave me alone,
please don't leave me alone,
please don't leave me alone,"
and their corks are weak,
from the salt water tears they leaked
they will open for anyone
oh you should of seen.

so the beaches that found them stirred
in waves that changed the course
of waiting to be found and knowing where to look
and they sent off five to nine replies
off the horizon casting squinting eyes
that said "until the sun sets, you'll never be alone."

they read...
enough pillows make a steal of you, a statue,
you are a winter collage of broken soft things
and you need not worry about being alone
break old rugs with brooms,
wait until the dust on your body leaves,
we're bound to be made new