Berklee Cafe

I don’t know why I still try

I got out and should have left you behind

I guess it’s father like son

Through the branches and the leaves

I saw you bury me

I saw you bury me and everything you hoped I’d be

No flowers

or stone

to make the grave

I’m a lost cause

No reason for hope

I went to look at where I lay

the grass had already begun to grow back in to loose loam

but for one brown patch

I touched the loose dust

it was ice cold on my skin

This is exactly the spot where my heart should have been

If you buried everything you thought I should be

How come my heart isn’t buried with me?

I have a little insight

It wasn’t me but you that you buried

Your hopes that I would be the way you wish you had been

You can’t be controlled by your sin

rather learn from the mistakes they put you in

your heart is

and will be

everything

that you are, have been, and will be

I can’t, I won’t, and I don’t want to be you

Isn’t that what you said me,

Listening to “Father of Mine” by Everclear

Sitting outside of my Elementary school,

About your non-existent father?

I don’t know why I even Bother

When I think I’m making progress

Becoming friends like we should

Instead I’m fishing for words in a forced conversation

Wondering where is that guy,

Who taught me to play chess,

Took me ice skating at the Centrum,

Gave me my music,

and taught me to ride a bike for the first time with out my training wheels

I was scared

You wouldn’t let me give up

It hurt to see me fall

But from that I learned to be a fighter

To always get up

“You can’t give up Danny, You’re gunna get it, just try one more time.”

As I try not to cry in a Berklee cafe,

I think

Dad,

I found her,

The one I said I would find

The one.

I’m living my dream I said I would

But instead you would rather,

Bury me in high society,

Prestige in classicism.

I still remember the Prince and the Pauper.

And when my skin slowly started turning black

and my ears

grew ever bigger

“Whats wrong with your son?” a man proclaimed.

And my dad said,

“Nothing, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my son.”

Wednesday

I feel like life should always feel like a vacation, or feel like that day you went to see a movie on a nice day or warm night. I don’t think that life should be haunted by worry or stress. if you sit back and pick apart your life you relate certain feelings to certain times. The feeling is as unique as the time you had. Like the first time you felt you were loved. Our human emotions are primal and if the simple things are the most obvious choice, then lets make this real simple. when something makes you happy be grateful because when the times come where you don’t know if your feet are just touching or in the ground, or if you are afraid to move it’s the good feelings that keeps us going. i believe i will so it is.

A Victims Fate, Bring On The Grave

I’m tracing back the footsteps of august 22nd

The beginning of when I would lose myself completely

Self medication you were the broken anchor line of my stability

The hardest days of my life are contemplated on third rails in musty air

My anxiety eats and feeds on these endless hall’s walls

Tell me is it bad to pray that your worries will collapse this city

Call me the doctor

Bring me a cure

How can I save you,

When I can’t help myself?

I watched my last escape dissipate 

Burned my lungs and tell me 

My problem is not solved in vein

Deceit is the brother to being insane

When the roads give out there will be no escape

The lights will flicker the panic will be our dearest friend

It will come and consume all of you

Whisper into your ear saying

Something is wrong nothing is fine

The light up ahead isn’t salvation

It’s the end of the line

The oxygen is spent and my nerves will wear thin.

I stand ask is anyone going to do anything?

They say son just sit down and hold this next breathe in

Your heart means well but this is no movie

See here, the hero will die with the rest of us in the end

They turned to smoke and sank into the pores of my skin

These workers of insecurity are choking me

At the end of the train sits a man wearing time worn cloths

Nursing a bottle of beam

Staring into my being, he imparted in me 

A fear of the unknown 

When he spoke he spoke in prose

he says,  “kid, these people will destroy you, 

Remember that each sin is our last, so live like you have no past” 

You are the bane of my everything

Completely 

I’ve gone completely insane.

Horizon

I miss feeling invincible
The powers of impossible couldn’t stop me.
In my skin I felt change
I numbed the truth and cut away the ugly
It’s real and I really don’t know if I have a handle
On everything I have the courage to change.
My eyes hide the lies
But inside is a light
Contained to a single space
Never moving,
Never shifting,
Forever being
And in that light is everything you know you can be.
The light is and will be as long as you feel free.
When we give in to reckless abandonment it’s called a dream.
In my dream is a wall connected at the ends making corners
Holding way for the protection of my doubt
I am alone and the fear is enough to devour my will.
In my skin sleep keeps me from living.
Through my stare the ground shifts.
In an instant I open the wrong door
I swallow the key hoping
That no one could ever follow me
I brought on the best possible disatser
The contrast of the storm
Turns the page in an abandoned book
left without ink or score.
The clouds swell and pour
Verse into form, my firm belief.
 This lame man’s scripture would never be heard
If a dream to walk alone could never be deserved.
The light is not judging, deceptive or ignored.
I’ve ignored it long before I ever knew that this light is you.
Give breath to me, you’re the hope that we use to survive
From the edge of town the light seems to fade.
On your own you go your own way
You say you’ll return,
Oh one day you’ll come back.
When the last Saint dreams again.

Fence At Fenway

I wake up

I can’t remember a single thing from my dream

I hear the intrusion of adolescent clamor

Hammering its ignorance through my ceiling.

I pull my boneless

Soulless body from my bed.

Dress

And take the 57.

Everyday I pass by a chain link fence

It has slender pieces of plastic ferring

woven through the links

vertically

side by side.

The Sun shines through the cracks

like a millon cameras flash

it’s disorienting

and the most interesting thing

that distracts me from

the endless monotony of thinking

47 days after tour, damn glad its over.

You could be here with me looking down on the world we used to hate.
Back then I use to promise myself that I wouldn’t be another
But you were just hoping for a savior
Forging your legacy
Just crying to be remembered
You sit wide-eyed
Unable to bide your time
Letting your thoughts free to riot
In the golden burn of your thrift chandelier

Every time I go to smoke a cigarette
I stare at the septic colored stain
It reminds me of how insecure I can be. 
Yet there isn’t enough filters to sift out what I’ve done
This damning tradition of drunken sleeping.

You were the epitome of fear to me
And I’m dragging out the bitter tears
This demon seed I let grow in me
Has nowhere for its roots to spread
The soil has become poison, diseased.
Because the only thing that is going to do any growing is me.

My pride wilts with the clouding thought
That you were right all along.
In between your wishful speech
Were the truths that your lips couldn’t keep.
Being naïve is what you expected of me
As you began to feed on that which was, my everything.

Every time I have a drink
I can’t express how good it feels
To know that I don’t have to wait for you not to think about me
I wanted to die somewhere off 95.
But my faith is like the tide.

We live in a cage built to disarm the wings of free thinkers. Because we can’t fly we sing to inspire. A different song for every soul that dared to believe.

No.

You haven’t got a clue.

You say you feel like me

But that probably means you drowning slowly.

let the water fill your lungs

as the guilt rips you apart.

RIP