i was there

piano keys were played softly
a tune that was nameless and yet seemed familiar
it reminded me of days and those days still make me smile
even though they're not memories but fantasies
hot and dirty air weighs on my lungs
and i breathe in the rain and i still hear the music
haunting and hypnotic, i was there
i saw him staring at himself in the mirror
that insufferable song playing in his mother's room
i was there to see him shoot and cry when
the darkness didn't seem to leave his eyes
he twitched every time i spoke his name
in whispers we prayed for heavy rain
through the cracked glass on his windows
then and now, i feel his pain
for i share it with my own.

smile.

i watched this video on my friend james jardine's blog. i loved it so much, i'm going to put it on mine. enjoy.

a whim

marching men waving their freedom
in sailor suits and eiffel towers
sleeping on air and dreams so
even the foolish seem to understand
little girls playing in the sunlight
pretty yellow dresses stained naive
how blessed they are before they know
that tonight, the sun will fade
all that is sweet will turn to dust
all that is life will turn to rust
and some of us are guilty too.
pain is taboo and i use it quite often
in expressing what i feel towards all
well, maybe just a little.

welcome to the good life.

i don't know if anything can hurt worse
the disappointment of the shaping hands
is comparable to having your chest ripped out
there's no denying that gaping whole that once
contained a big heart full of dreams and now
has a biting tongue and a silent scream
tears do this feeling no justice
and no one could quite understand what
cannot be confided in them so i ask you:
what is the point?

late nights and carpools.

lately i've been missing what i've had all along
a simple story of a girl who lost what was never gone
he talks in his sleep, this brother of hers
and it makes her smile before she dreams
and when she dreams, oh, lucky her,
she escapes to a place where she dances.

love binds tighter than blood.

a red fabric that ties me closer
a loose word that keeps me warmer
how often do we forget our forgiveness?
a heartbeat that sings of redemption
children cry in synced chorus
the aged speak in posed riddles
for what is it when we run out of time?
when words can no longer be in rhyme?
a younger sister of when it started
disbelief will be the reason things will not change.