What's With The Shoes?

One step.

One moment.

One heartbeat at a time.

We run the night

Most of the others rest..

We push forward.

Into the night.
Into the dark.

Our senses sharpen.
Our minds escape.

Into the darkness we move.

We don't fight it.

We own it.

We shine.
We are seen.

Each day.
Everyday.

We raise the sun.

We are the gatekeepers for the light.
Watchmen of the morning.

Here's to the dark..

We run the night.

War Paint

 

Forever just a memory just a memory just a memory, my friend. She's not ordinary. *She's just like me*. Woke up (I woke up again) this morning with the blank mirror facing me. 
Notice read: Blank mirror for blank expressionless customers only. 
No lipstick. No trace of fogged up finger-painting. She and I are one and the same. Did anyone catch what time it was when it started? My nostrils still carry whispers and memories. 
Whispers. Those curious corners of her lips. Vapors soon to disappear until the next night. 
They asked for a map.
Help us *understand*.
Understand. 
Forever just a memory, my friend. Stay here.
I'll stay here, sifting my remains through the ashes. Building a sandcastle with the dust I came from, and to which I'll sift through the hourglass back into.
Understand. 
Every time. 
This time the reflection showed the story. Sweet dreams. Trace the contours of your chest. Find the longitudinal reminder. Reach your hand inside before they awake. We're not open for business until later, much much later today. Reach in between beats.
The warmth is intoxicating. They never mentioned the percussionist for the sirens song. 
It's welcome here.
Reach in. Feel.
There it is. 
Your smile stretches across the room.
There it is.
Hands on.
Feel it.
The sand keeps sifting slipping through.
Time's almost up tonight.
You can't stay.
Forever just a memory, my friend.
As you slowly find your hand releasing.
Pulling back.
Blank mirror.

You slowly drag your fingers, together, across your forehead. 
One finger under each eye. 
War paint.
Blood red.
Glowing brighter.

Let today do what it may.
We'll wear our love on our face.

Alive.
Again.

Red Rooftops

She had a voice that sounded how velvet dresses look on a ballroom floor. Perhaps by chance
Perhaps by infinite design
Hers was the face from the magazine you glanced through earlier in the week.
Perhaps this night wouldn't end up blurring into cubes of ice
This is nice
Perhaps this night would end up fine.
You ran into her earlier in the day when you walked out of the elevator before the crowds
before the thoughts got loud
You ran away in your mind when she first looked you in the eyes while she sang. And again. And again.
You know that look
You know that arch of the spine
The red lights wrapped around the rooftop railing on a hot summer birthday Savannah night. Each bulb a heartbeat that was transported out of an electric IV in your arm.
Why red lights?
Why wrap them around the small palm in the corner?
Why those eyes, that voice, that song, hauntingly penetrating deep tonight?
Why did the girl from the other town put a smile on your face first thing in the morning when you expected to not even see your own face let alone feel the muscles curve your lips with joy.
You walked around the dark alley before the night came to a close. Her voice would have to stay at a distance. You couldn't have it near you near you near you closer near you tonight with the balcony door open or in a pile of her clothes.
Candle blown out and another year alive and closer to the grace pulsating through your inmost being.
Southern roads. Southern rooftops.
Southern ghosts that you pray one day will be released from your memory. Praying one day will feel freeing.

Remember the morning. Remember why you are you. Remember those that still remember you. Remember the reason for every season.

Remember to close your eyes (thank You) before you get to closing your eyes tonight. Thank you too.

You're alive tonight.
You saw red lights tonight.
They were there for you.

Snow Globe

The funny thing is
She said

It's so dark when
I've got the world in the palm of my hand

The funny thing is
She said

So many thoughts
So many notes
So many songs
So many memories
So many hopes
So many words
So many ideas

The funny thing is
She said

I can't fit them in
I can't say them all
I can't feel them
I can't sing them
I can't carry them

The funny thing is
She said

It drowns me 
Floods me
Swirls around me
Swallows me up

The funny thing is
She said

Tear them up
Bits
Pieces
Exhales
Small releases

The funny thing is
She said

When my world is shaken
They swirl around
Twirl around
Blur around me

The funny thing is
She said

They're all bright
White
Like snowflakes
Look so light

The funny thing is
She said

No one could read them
No one could feel them
No one believed them

The funny thing is
She said 

She had the world in the palm of her hand.
The snow globe was so beautiful to the outside.
Those snowflakes looked so pretty.
The scene looked so grand.
Inside.

The funny thing is
She said
(Nothing)