Aeroplanes; Night sky; Shooting stars

April 22, 2016 § Leave a comment


Die young – in the dark – That’s poetry.” Conor Oberst – too drunk to reference even half properly. 

I tried to keep note. Above the noise of the guitar and the crash of the drums I tried to maintain; To hide exactly where I truly was. I could hear it crashing around me like waves on a shoreline. I heard the bass try to keep time. I nodded and grinned and licked my teeth as I swapped one word for another and moved forward with the whole operation. At last something that made sense above the forms and confusion. Clarity at last. I’d come a long way to find it in all this noise.

Then I heard it. That steady Bm over the rattling drums and tambourine. I was back to the devil, back to before her, back to where I knew this path would ultimately end. Done being done with a funeral at least for now. Another. And another.

I tried to think in a way that would make sense written down but instead it just flowed out of me. Just words. Sentences. Maybe they made sense. Maybe they were just words. Maybe they would only make sense in that glorious retrospect.

All I know is that the grave and that telecaster are sure looking sweet right about now. Sure looking easy, sure looking free. I hope aguest sticks around, I hope they are around still.

Oh me? I don’t want to live without teeth. I don’t want to die without bite.

And just die at close range.

Phone in the ending.

Call it quits.

Loses cut.



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