it’s the funny sound that the fan makes when you’re right below it.

a sweet pitched twitch that lets you hear maneuver.

that quiet reminder you’re only a vibration with electric matter.

you.  are.  electric, baby.

and i want to give you my plug.

… makes you notice things you never did before.

the way the wind blows through everything.

the consistent hum of the road.

grumbling sounds of motorcyclist’s zooming by.  airplanes thunder in the sky.

the way the clouds light up in the evening light.

the hum of the wind

and twinkling sound of the sun-kissed leaves.

the sky turns when you look at it.  if you watched it enough you would see it passing right by you

and when the evenings lights start to glow.

the chilliness in the air refreshes you.

gives you life.

if only i felt like the gleaming sky.

consistent like all motion.

so gloomy my spirit soaks the pain up. straight on the rocks.

 

i say one thing and you hear the other. and i feel you pick a scab that was never really there. defendant at loss, i always fight back. the tough skin on me knows nothing else. you surely can relate..

 

clear thoughts cant tame the sharp tongue in our heat of moments. jabbing, stabbing, and sick with myself. i curb the enthusiasm and feel almost shameful.

 

and when the coast becomes clear, i keep trying to balance the angst you and i may share. but sometimes the teeter totters too much to our left and the ebb and flow of you and i are wrecked a mess.

 

silly game, we never can win. so we separate emotions to cover the hole that we’re in.

you make me complicated.. delicate… involved.

and my silence weakens our strength… moving through nonsense, the minutes roll by our dignity.  caught up in levels that burn the capacity.

washed away the solid foundation.. built on a pedestal, amounted to no good.  trouble maker. you mask the cause. revolved on a whim.  balanced by love. reflected by faults.  you built this.

and my silence found our humility.. moved through cautious minds, the hours see respect. let go of pages that depend on the next…  turn them…

“Getting bigger and sleeker
And wider and brighter
We bite and scratch and scream all night
Let’s go and throw
All the songs we know…”