Airplanes
The Ghost On The Shelf
The light reflected every sign of water hidden beneath the blanket black,
as it slowly uncovered rivers without revealing their depths.
The thin sheet tin foil metal oceans gleamed and glared in their defense, and left me a thousand miles above them in my play toy paper jet.
Stealthy rope you are much stronger than my brittle broken bones, so please pull me through tomorrow if it doesn't feel like home.
My feet feel heavy with conviction, though my crimes not understood.
If I could move a little further I would see straight through the woods.
The trees here speak in foreign tongues breathing air into my lungs, and everything that grows together stays together for forever.
(And everything that grows together stays together for forever.)
The skylight through the mountains and the trees looked like rain.
The leaves rustled violently in lonesome lover's pain.
I thought I heard the breeze as it was calling out your name, or whispering reminders of how everything must change.
It was tugging at my memory, so I let go of the reigns, and then these floods shattered through everything; some feelings can't be tamed.
You told me that the love I felt could no longer remain, so I cast you in the fire until your face was just a dream..
Or a friend that rarely visits from an old forgotten frame, like a nightmare in the dark that leaves you frozen still in place.
It's all the same: another shame.
The sunshine through the clouds promised another perfect day, but I've yet to see a promise that isn't broken in some way.
My eyes, they spoke so loudly, I thought you'd have something to say, but I guess the toast of silence is just another price I'll pay.
Now my pillow seems too solid, and my mind keeps me awake.
My blanket is no shelter that holds the cold you send at bay.
We were children with some scissors.
We got wrapped up in our games, and we accidentally cut the ties we thought would keep us safe
From the ghost that sits upon the shelf awaiting judgment day.
From the winter winds that cast us in our solitary stay.
Revenge (Of The Bees)
The Blind Man
The crowd swarmed in like hungry bees, their stingers hidden deep
Eager to break free and sink within who couldn't please.
I thought I saw your fragile shape delicately threatening.
I couldn't take you seriously until your stripes showed through between
Two mysterious silhouettes that faded away just like a dream.
The juxtaposition created a sense of vivid reality.
Stricken with fear I sunk into my chair that transformed immediately
Into what I thought a safe haven; little did I know that the stitches were coming free.
And so, my wall fell to shambles; a complete form of mockery
Of my very own being lying on the floor....
At your feet.
As my soul attempted to run away my body stood in place.
My feet pinned heavy to the ground with every bit of weight.
Playing as the wooden culprit I drew attention on everything.
You didn't mind the commotion, but I shielded myself habitually.
One minute turned into one hour which soon turned into seven days,
Until my eyes dragged away from your subtle trap, and I got lost in this maze.
The clock shouted back, "ONE SECOND!" and my composure dripped away
Into a sea of emotions too deep to swim, so I drowned in you...
For days.
Your mouth parted almost perfectly.
Drink up the spill you've made.
Your breaths were strong winds that pulled me in, and then pushed me back out to bay.
I secretly begged for some solid ground, or even further, a place to feel safe
But you created waves upon other waves until all I could taste....
Was salt.
Oooooo
A blind man whispers to the son of God, he says, "It's time to go home, my friend."
Well, that man knows what he wants and I'm still here playing pretend.
Now, it's four days to Christmas, and I still don't know what gifts to send.
I've got a pocket full of blues, and nothing left to loose.
Oooo.
I've been pacing streets to paint my feet with every new direction that I take.
Anywhere the road may lead the people always seem to sound the same.
So, I'm making conversation with my mind to keep myself awake.
Everyday is a game; a different way to make sure I don't break.
A different way to make sure I don't BREAK!
Oooooooo
(A blind man whispers to the son of God, he says, "It's time to go home my friend." That man knows what he wants, and I'm still here playing pretend.)
I never shout in whispers in fear that these words would be spoken out to loud.
If I get hurt, well, that's ok. I know I've felt something, some how.
Yeah, I'll shout on roof tops until my voice stops to get my message through the crowd.
IF YOU FIGHT A WAR MAKE SURE YOU KNOW JUST WHO YOU'RE FIGHTING FOR!
Make sure you know just who you're fighting for. (1,2,3,4..UH!)
OOoooo
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