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Long Way Home

In the labyrinth of the City of Owls, I tore the right sleeve of my shirt on an oak railing while running to your door to tell you I was a new person, changed, renewed, revitalized, no longer living painfully and robotically under the slate clouds of a depression I barely understood. But at the ripping sound of my sleeve, caught on a loose spike of wood, my heart began to race like a horse under the lash. Sweat blossomed on my brow. My hands trembled. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. I balled my hands into tight, white-knuckled fists and kicked a half-full trash can, spilling rotten orange peels and baby teeth into the street, startling an old poet sleeping in the gutter.

I took ten deep breaths and focused my gaze on a glass statuette of a hedgehog in the window of the shop next to me. I unclenched my hands. And I quickly forgot what I was doing, where I was going, why I was out in the streets. I didn’t forget you, it’s important that you know that, but I lost myself in a scarlet haze of panic and disorientation–briefly–and when I came out again, I was almost a blank slate, lost in an unfamiliar world, tranquilly confused.

I abandoned my quest to get to you and wandered the twisting streets of the city, singing quietly and tunelessly to myself, like the ghost of a rambling troubadour in a maze of smoky mirrors. I’m not sure if I’ve come out of that maze or not. I’m not sure of anything anymore. And so I continue to move through my days and nights, dreaming of you but unable to find you, wishing I’d taken a different route in the underground walkways beneath the Square of Moths and Candles.


in the world i see around me
everything makes me want to run
it’s all exciting & terrifying
my frozen heart melting in the sun

all the stars glimmering above me
walking up when the sky’s below
they swirl around to hypnotize me
my fevered heart cooling in the snow

but that’s not complicated
not random or not fated
i’ve never hesitated
it’s why i’m medicated

in the world i see around me
they put poison in my blood
they’ll burn everything to ashes
while they’re waiting for the flood

but that’s not complicated
not random or not fated
i’ve never hesitated
it’s why i’m medicated

look up at the moon
it’s easy to pretend we’ll be there soon

Fluffy Alarms

drained like a battery
what can you do?
damp as a spring day
folded in two
your nights never tasted so much like ennui

like an empty pocket
dancing all alone
skull full of flowers
twisted & boned
these nights never last like they did way back when

intentions are fine
sand turned into glass
these new moon nights
will never, never last
but your days will taste bursting with cloudy surprise

Boy King Blues

walking into paradise for just one day
nothing left to dream about
nothing left to say
with the ocean for my backyard
with my pavement in the sky
with our encyclopedic hearts
beaming light behind our eyes

pursuing blue epiphanies against the grain
nothing left to dream about
nothing left but rain
drifting seaside for our palace
drifting soil in the stars
drifting my lips to your lips
wondering if we’ll go that far

wishing for a way to waste our time
nothing left to write about
nothing left to wish

Bleed the Sea

i’ve forgotten how the sea
it tastes like blood to me
& i can’t even breathe

i’ve forgotten how the sea
it drifts into my sleep
& amplifies my dreams
but can i ride the waves?

when i’m drowning in the day
i’ve lost the words to say
exactly why i’ll fade

when i’m sinking in the night
a peaceful ray of light
makes everything all right
but can i find my way?

can i ride the waves?
can i drink the sea?
can i find my way?
can i bleed my dreams?

The Deadly Nightshades

i wrote this torn apart
torn paper sad
that you pepper tight
you rushing & dare home of washed up sleep
on waves of your pocket’s cemetery

you have a dead thing still a doll
on coughed up once had a pillow underneath
it’s so unfair around but now
you’re like in barcelona

ever lost so cold as symphony his sleeve
ever lost felt all of a torn paper note
never dreamt & drum this mouth comatose
like washing your pocket’s pestilence of cold

i think of eyes never forever
never found your laughter unchained
prudence sawdust & glass in the briny palace
in again & but dormant in flowers
& frigid look at stormy sleep symphony
in blue symphony again

out a cartoon as in with nothing left
with nothing left but chill
chilled all stormy in the asunder broke up
stamped & whistling in seas all snowy
& the catacombs torn up it all began
the seas go to the underworld in your chest
your tempests out the wintry slipshod

shafted after drowning little fool
picks out drifting in the the seas
sandwiched across to wear the catacombs
symphony stone the eiderdown
sludges through places you cannot feel

all teacups & in leave of your heart?
in leave of your heart?
into your spider house again at midnight
don’t you see it is ever true stormy
i wrote this torn apart
torn paper sad
your veins
the deeps
your bed
good night