safe at last

it's easier, being at home
not so hard, hanging onto myself
to be myself
less work reminding me what i'm supposed to be like.
when i've got the people who made me what i am here in front of me

thoughts about death and glory
the easy way out, to glorify pain
to seek it out
to chase it like fools chase rainbows
hug it close to my chest and nurse it's venomous bite
it's easier

but harder, much harder, to be well and truly happy
to look at the world with open eyes and feel hopeful
like something good can come from this mess
like i'm not throwing my life away on something i hate
(which i don't hate, but maybe do not love quite as much as i ought)

it's a bit tricky
everything, really

the question of goodness and honesty and being better
of trusting others versus protecting self
of letting go
knowing which way to go

i want music for blood
and music for food
and music to breathe
music in my ears and in my hair
music on my lips and in my eyes
live and breathe and eat the pulse of drums and the whine of guitars.

keep it close and make it closer
live for what you love
and for nothing else
striving and wishing and jumping hoping to land

when i'm at home, it all looks less impossible from here.

better things to do than me

i should only ever write about self-pity
because no one wants to know

less than uninteresting
more than boring
active dislike ftw

it was just how you looked in the dark

what is real
what is true
what is new

nothing new under the sun
but something says to try

which is more daring, to push all the old buttons
or to push the ones that no one knew existed.

i want more and better and different.

thou shalt always kill

just a band
just a band
just a band
just a band
justaband

song for when you've lost all your friends and can't remember where

scraps of affection are all that i got
(all that i get)
too proud to beg
too cold to bend
too shamed to say
too much
(wasn't good enough)
it's all over in facts and charts
figures and statistics
(lies and damn lies alike)
less than angry more than sad
stuck between screaming till blood comes out and sewing my lips shut
emptying my guts the hard way
writing it fast and hard
or sad and slow
(so sick of love songs)
when i've never fall and never will
fate is invisible and more cruel for it
doom is certain when walking off cliffs
but flying is always an option
(just decide to never die)
it's harder and easier and more in the middle
do what for who and when and how
heart vs soul vs mind vs body
but what if they're all served
just harder in different ways
or just setting myself up for certain failure
better to never try and never fail than to try for something possible
or always try for the impossible and fail anyway
(failure is the best revenge)

Best at taking really bad advice

i know they know more than me
at least about the twisty darkened forest paths of the mind
they've mapped it out
set it down
i know where i should go
but the unknown in more exciting
testing testing one two three
how far can i go before i crash
and when i do
how many pieces will i make
shattered like a champagne flute
at your best beloveds wedding to someone else
only worse
because you were never the marrying kind
which is why they left
(i'm not good enough)

(cliches taste best, except for when they don't)

it's hard to know what to say when it's all been done before
(it's all been done before)
i'd like to make something new under the sun
and maybe i can
but i'd know
on the inside
that it really isn't new
just old
cut apart with safety scissors and
pasted together with a cluestick and elmers
(you know it looks like peeling skin when you spread it thin enough?)

pretty handsome awkward

kills more than it saves
just look at the numbers
for every one who made it
twenty million sucked it down

for every one elevated
more pushed farther down

suffering for art is easier than being redeemed