What I was doing before you

entered the scene
brightest eyes I’ve seen
jacket draped over my shoulders
cheers to how smooth it’s been

but back then I would wake
as somebody I’m not
How to get out of a slumber
Not something I was taught

So I dug myself deeper
tried to find my bones
Would call random numbers
Strangers would answer the phone

I solidified that on concrete, stone
and drank a half gallon of patron.

The end of winter

Breathless hesitation
You notice things about me that others don’t
Secret little conversations
Have to pay for parking, you say you won’t

Disenchanted with inadequacy
Failed comprehension
You, there, biting your lip
Trying to hold back the tension

A slippery waterfall
The golden gate bridge
Didn’t return your call
Words like a sales pitch

I think I’ve counted the ways
of how to make this tree grow
but when it’s this cold out
you always feel so alone.

Blueprints

Strawberry kisses, sweet tangerines
Life is getting better, so it seems
Misunderstanding me; vanilla ice cream

My planner, not filled out, blank pages
forgetting days, not even watching them pass
like a ghost hiding from its reflection

Long nails, difficult to type
Sold out concerts, not worth the hype
Poems that aren’t intended to rhyme

3 stanzas is preferred
4 is out of the ball park
A hit or a miss
A hit or a miss

Takes me back

All-consuming and inevitably hopeless. Hopeful in the mornings when the day is just starting and it’s crisp. Dressed head to toe like it’s a piece of cake. Waviness, whatever.

Do not disturb him when he’s in his element — it’s also too cute to intervene. I’ve been being kind of mean. Thinking about what is and what isn’t deserved.

Told I don’t make too much sense. These are the trivial things, really. Because what will soon occupy my time will be grander, greater. On a level or some shit.

Oh to inspire.

We love our music

Your body, lying underneath the window’s shades. Seventh avenue. Houses without legible numbers on them, elm trees in the breeze.

Rainfall only at nighttime. Crisp apple-colored lights to illuminate the backyard. That we don’t use, because the kitchen light is just fine when you’re drinking wine.

Getting back into atmospheric black metal and depressive black metal. Forgot how nice the sounds were, the lyrics and the beats. Footprints on the planet.

Found out the Neighbourhood can be classified as “alternative r&b” but I didn’t like anything that they said were similar sounds. Some bands just make their own groove in the world that’s untouched and unable to be copied.

Their own groove in the world, into the atmospheric core.