lights out, i still hear the rain.

The ceiling draws intricate patters

before my eyes,

telling me it's darkest secrets
and expecting the same.

But just my walls hear those;

the secrets that lay in my heart and pulse
through my blood stream;
keeping me here for another night.

Another night at least,

until i see them again;
My constant friends.
never leaving- by nature not by nurture.

They hear my pleads and stay silent

soaking it into their paint spores and keeping it there
forever more;
littering my empty room with memories and regrets.
Back to the time my phone would ring with good news

from a friend,

not just a low battery.
When laughter would echo inside these four walls
instead of echo my
breathing.
hello, it repeats back-
with no reply.

But i have a friend in here, oh yes.

Solitude; my friend who is always here and will
never
leave me;

a testament to these four walls
and all
their secrets.

Cold Lemonade

Leave your jacket behind.
Especially in this city.
Another day wasted on day dreams and cozy blankets
but I'm not one mind.

So, fathers day is coming up soon.
I can't think of anything to give my dad
that would suffice to all the years
he's had to deal with me.
the good and the bad;
pepsi in barbados
inside jokes
frustration
nicknames
ice cream at midnight
stitches and
misunderstandings.
So maybe the secret in buying a gift isn't to be adequate to the time spent
but to stop time itself.
a time machine it is.

so stoked.