tomorrow and today

you should
wake up
 every morning
 and say
to yourself
"what a ride"
 and what
 a ride tomorrow
 will bring.

pointless shadow

Walking home from the coffee shop that lies on the corner of lyndale and 24th street.

 I'm in the alley behind my home trying to embrace the cold wind thats hitting my face with only the warmness of my coffee keeping my fingers warm.

 Theres light reflecting on the icey cement streets that i see coming from the only lamp post at the end of the road ahead.

every step i take theres a thin layer of melted water covering the ice so i brace myself not to slip.

I notice my shadow that consists of my over sized scarf that wraps around my neck, my long furry pea coat thats dragging behind my feet. and my chunky doc martin boots that in my shadow, seems to look like astronaut boots.

Its to the left of me and it continues to follow me through each garage i pass.

I notice that my shadow is faster than me.

I have to race to keep up with it.

go ahead girl, tell your story

she locked herself in that room with a full view of a full moon.

its where where came to fly, when she wanted to dissapear from whats outside. 

i try not to make it obvious, she doesnt know theres an audience.

the walls are ribbon thin so its not my fault that shes listening. i cant make out every word because she sings loud like trapped bird. 

She looks out at the stores when she writes songs on her guitar.

A secret solo show she gives, sometimes she'll search for a line and i wish i could just give her all of mine.. but it would unravel if she found out i was in the shadows..

Familiar with the voice of the lonely shes lost in the noise of the wind blowing.. so go ahead girl, tell your story.

Cant wait to hear what tomorrow brings

and if you ever get to smile, ill be right here trying to reconcile.

My desire to admire your sadness and your gonna rise from the fire and the ashes. 

And if its the same to you, you ough to let me be the one to help change your tune.

Go ahead girl, tell your story

I love you to pieces.

understood

I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it. But I didn't, not really. Only the smudgeness of it, the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it's the halves that halve you in half. I didn't know, don't know, about the in-between bits, the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.