We took some pills to calm us down, we needed help to come back up. Just trying to stay in control of the situation.

Inspired by Against Me!’s song “Borne On The FM Waves Of The Heart”.

I love this song so much.
It’s funny, because I totally didn’t even appreciate it when I heard it.
But like any other song, if I love the lyrics, the vocals and any other accompaniment are kind of side dishes.
And the fact that Tegan Quin sings backup vocals in that song just makes me love it even more.
Because if you know me, you know that Tegan & Sara are like my favorite duo ever.

Anyway, here we go.

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Someone wise once told me this upon mentioning that I was afraid to go outside:
Like anything, I approached with great trepidation.

Play in the dirt, baby. It’s okay.
The dirt is safe now as long as we’ve got fingers to clean with
And mouths to laugh with.
We all get covered in dirt sometimes, sweetie. You don’t need to cry.
The dirt is still beautiful, and everyone needs it.
And when you’re dirty, so am I.

Brought up in the same school of prophecy
It’s hard to see feelings as nothing but dirt
Filthy things that tear people apart

But let me tell you.
Play in the dirt now, it’s safe.
You wont get hurt.
As long as we’ve got fingers to clean with
And mouths to laugh with.

And even though the dirt don’t speak
She’s just as opinionated as you and I
She’s got roots beneath her toes
And seen many a days where you and I cry alike.

And let me tell you,
If it were possible
I would track down a bird as beautiful and free as you long to be
Humble myself to acquire one of its brilliant feathers
And wish to transform it into some kind of quill
One with a fine enough point to pierce and possibly rewrite preexisting things

Let me tell you,
I’d draw smiles on all your cells.

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I’m surprised I can still write without my muse fox.
My girlfriend is babysitting Calcifur this week.

He’s a red fox, and her animal is a red fox. So they’re bonding. xD Or something.

I might just have to get her her own.
How hard could it be to find a stuffed fox?

Poem “Composition” Part deux. Not depressing. c:

Inspired by The Postal Service’s song “Clark Gable”.
No nonsense.
My life is turning into a huge metaphor.
Enjoy the structured prose.

I take a walk every day.
I love it when the wind smacks me in the face.
When I’m walking, I couldn’t care less what I look like.
It’s liberating, really.
It doesn’t even throw me when I walk with other people. I still don’t care.
There’s something about the smell of air this time of year that really puts me at ease.
And that other scent that’s starting to build up on all my clothes.
It’s amazing how just the scent-memory of someone can make me feel so happy.

Poem “Composition”.

>Prisoner
Put your hands up on that wall
Fix that blank stare exactly where it belongs
I want to see sweat spill on the floor
Black and white, Hitchcock style
For all the world knows, tonight you’re bleeding.

Get your mind in the right place, Prisoner
You’ll be here for a while.

I’m so tired of all your shit.