Melancholy Words Beneath a Night Sky
Melancholy and thinking of places far away, living out of a backpack, no reason to stay...
I'm uncomfortable sharing certain works with people, but there is a time to grow and a time to learn. I've never been much of a poet, so here's to taking that next step...
I Keep Walking
I’ve never been good at ending things, but I’m good at endings,
I just get up and walk out the door,
Out into the quiet street, no we don’t talk anymore.
I keep walking until the silence coils like fog in my head,
And my mouth grows stale with words left unsaid.
I walk until I find a drink and something sweet and fine,
I walk until I tangle myself in sheets that aren’t mine.
I break my brow against the darkness that winds from these lips,
Kiss the mouth of a pretty girl pressing against me with her hips.
I walk until I find my voice, walk until I’ve made my choice.
I walk until I find someone else’s little light to scare away the dark.
I've Never Been in Love
No, I’ve never been in love, but I love the sound that women make,
I hold them in my hands and wait for their hearts to break.
In the dark I sit alone, and let the moonlight kiss my skin,
Staring into the shadows, hollow and thinking of could have been.
Your words are still tangled in my hair,
And I dream of moments when your lips brushed mine,
But the dream is over, all we ever had was time.
An emptiness dripped into my bones when you said you couldn’t stay,
I guess you always knew that I was best at walking away.
Watching happy couples stroll down the street,
I wonder what love feels like with every heart-beat.
Is it like my love for the mountains, or swimming beneath the sea?
Is it like the euphoria of being somewhere you aren’t supposed to be?
As I wonder and wander I begin to see,
That my head is too wild and my feet are too free,
To ever believe there is someone out there for me…
Melancholy Thoughts
I think that love is like a mountain, it grows tall and white with snow,
Or like a wayward creek, every spring it grows.
In the past it’s been a river, every winter it froze,
I listen for your voice, singing soft and warm and low.
But all I hear is the wind, and watch the clouds it blows,
I picture your eyes, waiting at night to see them close,
But without you the forest is dark, and I’ve taken the wrong road,
I’m wandering in the woods, and can’t find my way home.
