Smooth and sleek
You just fall so easily into the palm of my hand
I’ve needed your shared words
I’ve used your simple mentality
Plan as day; black and white
My thoughts so easily pour into you
You express those ideas back verbatim
Being passed around the room I see
Your masks and accents change
You aren’t the same person twice until
Back into my hands you fall
I shout through you, I curse
I even love and hate
My grip tightens as I get into
The deep and colorful emotions and words
Blue, Black, red any you like
Even your colors have true meanings
Help me with your subtlety
Hidden within pockets of darkness
Sometimes without you
No one will truly know my soul
Written for the world to see
I’m from little chipped blue coffee cups
Heart covered ceramic plates.
I’m from the dirt pit in the backyard
Wasted hours and toys.
I’m from the shed, trapped, waiting in a hail storm
Holding onto big shaggy dogs.
I’m from the little green Tonka train
Riding through the house
I’m from the church sinners now
Entire family packed in.
I’m from the sound of open fields
Wind blowing leaves.
Yet I’m still from the crowded streets
Walking home alone.
I’m from the empty house
Now I’m from the crowded apartment
Filled with dolls and make-up.
I’m from the bad father
Only lesson was how to be a good one.
In my room is my staple, my lifeline, my jukebox,
Filling the house with happier times and sad memories
Carrying on the party for everyone else.
Memories talk and tell you all about a person and where they come from. The tiny small memories are always the ones that can tell you the most about someone.
You can find my heart in a juke box
Songs speaking the words I wish I could
Music beats to my heart
Scratches on the record speak volumes
Skips are the mistakes in life
Where entire rooms stop and look
Smells of alcohol dreams
Pool cue confessions coated in chalk
Music stops with no more change to free our souls
Each coin a passion lasting only a few moments
Scrapes of bar stools cutting to the bone
I hear words long forgotten and so final
Vinyl cracks in bar stool seats
Feels like lifelines to loves lost and stolen
Cried tears and times forever frozen behind glass
Scanning lists of songs like past memories
Remembered lyrics and familiar tunes
This song is dedicated to
Remembering me, Remembering you
This is to show that language comes from more than just words. The environment can tell all sorts of stories if you’d just listen.
Long winding roads asking
Are we there? How much longer?
Sister’s upset because it’s my turn to pick the station.
It’s always classic like some Floyd, Skynyrd, or Zeppelin.
Cramped in the van’s warm backseat,
crawling over into the back storage area to sleep,
reading my first novel, or playing those
aggravating Gameboy games, I worked so hard to beat
the lights, the beeps, the retrying constant,
the relief of rest stops and excitement of new sights out the winds.
Everything looks like a new world. We crossed into mountains and hills growing taller every mile.
Arriving after long days and hours of riding to realize…
It’s been only a few hours.
The rest of the day is an adventure…
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