Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

Your back in Ohio, and I’m backed into another corner.

Will things really be okay, because it feels like we’re breaking

And just leaving things alone means physics will take hold;

An object in motion will stay in motion, so doing nothing is something;

It means accepting that falling apart is as normal for us as breathing.

 

But I’m not feeling comfortable in this Colorado air,

Open spaces just leave us with more places to scream without an audience

And all of this snow is wasted on unbalanced folk such as we;

I’m not a special snowflake and you can’t stand the shakes.

 

We could move back to Ohio, rediscover the cities we hate

Perhaps all of the street signs have been replaced

And everyone has up and moved, so nothing is the same

Well, if we came back, new names and neighbors wouldn’t mean a thing.

 

So where do we go from here, our starting line a broken heart?

I think conventional wisdom would be to break this off,

Empty our minds of the good times and focus solely on the terrible,

Rip that Band-Aid off and move right into the rebound.

 

Surely forgetting we were ever a thing would be sad,

But if we are sad now, does it matter if we cut a bit more?

It all ends, so end it as it began;

Burning ourselves dry, leaving nothing, leaving nothing.

 

And so you left me nothing, and I left myself nothing.

And so I am nothing, because you were my everything.

And so you are in Ohio, and I am nowhere at all.

And so you have forgotten, and I am forgetting how to breathe.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

My body is ash, saturated gray, invisible on cloudy days, and blown apart with a single puff of wind.

Now, right now, I cannot focus my eyes. They water in the bright light, damaged by any image aside from the pitch black. My feet are cold under my white and gray socks. I am shaking. I feel sick. I want to run, far away, but find myself captured in a million different social situations. Talking; I can’t do it. My mind draws a blank as my dry mouth fails to produce a word. It’s strange; I fear being alone like this but cannot stand looking at anyone else. A broken mirror, which is what I am. Shattered, unable to find any hint of what I once truly was, only these pieces that could be from anyone, anything…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m tired of seeing things that existed before you now as nothing else but reminders of you. I can’t erase you…but I’d give anything to have those things back, without you..

She reminds you of birthday cake and lavender hand soap. Her smile contains hints of vanilla summers and cinnamon winter’s. She speaks, and it sounds like the popping of fresh movie theater popcorn and the fizzling of a perfectly topped off cup of Coca-Cola. You hold her hand, and warmth rushes through your body like hot chocolate, and you feel nervous butterflies under every inch of your skin. Yet, just as quickly as she sets your nerves on fire, she also gives comfort, the same comfort you used to find sleeping in, snuggled tight under warm sheets on snow-days. She is…everything in my life that has ever brought me happiness…and she’s gone, but those things, vanilla summers and fizzing soda and hot chocolate snow days, they are all still here…she wasn’t all those things, because they existed before her…so keep moving forward, one day at a time, and I’m sure the day will come when those wonderfully comforting things will be comfortable once again…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m lost in this shallow water, and I’m wondering if I should just lay down and let myself drown.

I am captive to this lonely heart,

For it travels where my body can find no haven,

And so my soul becomes the ship

Lost among the rolling sea foam,

Breaking the shores only to circle back,

Back to where it all began..

Posted in Music Mondays, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics

Music Mondays: The Sonder Bombs

Okay, so this weeks featured artist is a little different from other artists I’ve shared in that I only discovered this band a little over 5 days ago. The Sonder Bombs are a local band (I live in NE Ohio and they are from Cleveland) that I heard while listening to an NPR segment on Uke Punk music. I had no idea what Uke Puke was, but I love Ukulele, and I love Punk, so I was curious enough to check it out, and I have to say it was the best decision I have made in the past year.

The sound is something familiar, but it molds so many of my favorite sounds that I’ve never thought about mixing that it creates a unique blend I can’t get enough of. I must have listened to this track, Switzerland, a few dozen times over the holiday weekend and it makes me feel…happy.

Hopeful.

At home.

I’ve never been one to go see bands play live, but this is a local band trying to make a name for themselves, and I want to see them succeed, so I plan on seeing them live in their next couple of shows. Below is a link to there bandcamp, which has their next shows listed. I strongly encourage everyone to listen to this song, share this post if you enjoyed it, and spread the word about this amazing band.

https://thesonderbombs.bandcamp.com/