gentle pastel

was tired and i was the father of someone else's children. i didn't have any money or religion and i was a stranger. i wanted you to leave. i've been here too many times before.

deep winter

all of these miles of highway and the way that you go down every one of them just to get to someone's warmth. the way that you crawl. if you sound like a coward it's because you are.

centuries, turning

there is no truth and why would you argue? stop pretending you were born for a greater purpose. it's enough to be alive.

the defeatist

i listen at night for intruders while my children sleep and i go over the list of people i need to apologize to. i used to be hopeless now i'm without hope. i didn't mean to waste my life writing poems.

as a sick person

grow up and realize that money controls everything. that you will never save anyone. after you run out of dry land all you can do is drown.

open your eyes and then your arms

stopped eating and stopped believing in words. i love my wife and i love my children. i give them what i can. i understand that it's not enough. i understand that nothing ever will be.

in every room, in every corner

i left a note telling my sons that all of this wasn't meant for them. telling them that i love them. i couldn't see that it mattered anymore.