Thursday, March 26, 2009

Armory

the bricks of this place
hold stories of me
the smell of the walls
the banister under my palm
remind my heart of pain
remind my skin of yours

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Stuck

The camera is full of pictures
The sink is full of dishes
This Friday night is silence
Self-absorbed and locked indoors
Drown the doubts with another beer
Cry out with quips they’ll all ignore
Check for him and wait for him
And stay stuck for no reason
But comfort and fear
Time will move on as always
And empty rooms will become
Other empty rooms
In other haunted cities
And either way
Things will change
Or they won’t