Shaking in my Boots

the cruelty of my being born
is very real and underpronounced
in a bleak postcard
filled with blood, sweat, placenta and filth.
and love.

So, why are we all so unafraid?

Waiting in the Wings, Motherfucker.

in the wings i wait for you
to step this way
and then i move in closer
to find you alone in your
vulnerability
i strike with a verse
and you go down
you argue that there is no "down"

...then we both wake up

Bad Breakups Gone Great

just like that old bootleg
we wrecklessly taped on some
cracked and rainy Seattle street
way back in '01
and just like the words i can never take back
we don't matter to each other anymore

Somethings Never Change

she sits and waits on the edge of my plans
we laugh it off and wait for some mountain town
but we both know what it is
it's sadness that we don't understand
i've never had it together

Jokes

with a click of the wrist
i am whole again
cue the joke

The Fool With the Sick Heart

you will be destroyed
underneath this weight
because you have opened your mouth
only this time, it's not poison
that comes out
but the vomit spills
from your heart
onto the grown
only this time
you will not return
to eat that filth
and puke it up
all over again

when He died
your filth died
and on the third day
when He rose
you rose with Him
now you look down
onto that voided corpse
where your vomit lies
with your lies,
deception,
theft,
and greed

oh, you fool
with the sick heart
that beats
destruction
and malice
and death
you will be destroyed
underneath this weight

Malice(d)

i hate you
not in a superficial way
but in my bones
i feel nothing but malice
when i hear your voice
and the defecation
that forms your words

your phony wisdom
your unapologetic hypocrisy
your fucking crippling arrogance
i cannot stomach the sight
of your ugly face

this malice has been years in the making
as i watched you choke my brother
for slapping me in the face
every time you imagined my disrespect

Let Loose (From Things)

free from this shit
the gambling of ideas
and feelings
that the rest of you
believe
really shouldn't exist
or be spoken of
it should all be in secret
or behind turned backs
not that we're malicious
but we're worried
for their welfare

but
if i truly spoke honestly
i would call every last one of you
a liar, a thief and a hypocrite
just like me

i am no longer bound
by your blood that is
inextricably tied to mine
or this town
or these mountains
or your neighbors
or this green lawn
or this house
or myself

Things We Want. Things We Need. Things We'll Never Have.

everybody wants a king
but nobody wants a throne
to live underneath

Late Nights

we stay up late nights
sometimes

underestimating the sadness that would come
as street lights flicker
we wander from city to city

we have traveled on dark highways
running from somewhere
anxious to arrive somewhere else

then we sold our cars
and the highways feel
a bit more still

we see the lights speeding by
on the 405
crossing bridges
as we look down dead ends

it's not easy being lonely
but we're trying as hard as we can