Unwound (Lyricless)

I spent ten years taking more and more care of less and less of my father.

All my friendships desiccated and drifted away on cold breezes.  

And if my ego was a party balloon, for those years it slowly was covered over in mud, obscured.   

Then, my father finally died, having forgotten even to breathe.   

Only later, I realized if ever I fell in love or had a son of my own, he would never know. And I saw that the balloon had popped long ago, and I was only walking around with the shell of mud in a party balloon shape, and that now it had all crumbled away.   

And I no longer know who I am.

(Moonlighting)

For Anyone Still Reading

You make me want to be better 

But that can't be done ever 

So I just hope you won't remember 

And we can just drift along like this

(untitled)

 If I pulled my heart from my chest

It would look like you.

Withered

 The ever-pulling pall

That ever-marching machine

Time goes rolling over all

 

What a little word is death

What a little word is death,
What a bitter worm.
A worried, cold bit of earth.
Sorting chills from warmth.
A settled solitude,
A silent berth.

But I’ve dug my way out of holes before,
So what would be once more?

Inkling

 I held her close

And she was soft and warm

And she smelled to me of home.

Not one from which I'd come,

But one where I could belong.

(Further proof that it is time to sleep)

 Every day I find myself slipping further into the darkness

A little closer to the rope that ends it all

A fainter voice rasping through the whimsy and the larkness 

Frayed thoughts taking the role of a harridan in full bawl

A Snippet of Sniff

Good god, ain’t you buoyant 
For you float above me
And I soar any time I catch hold of you

Merely Roused

The wind kicked me in,
it took my breath with it,
rubbed itself up my spine
and pinned me down with its lies.
Then it whispered away
And the drowsy quiet returned.